The Mail Order Bride
by carmelitajones
Summary: Ana becomes a modern mail order bride to escape a life of poverty, hoping to start a new life. But then a mistake from her past appears like a thief in the night, standing in the way of her new beginning. NO Christian or Ana deaths, HEA
1. Chapter 1

Story description:

In a struggle to survive, Ana becomes a modern mail-order-bride, hoping against hope for a happily ever after. But you can't start a new chapter of your life if you keep re-reading your last one.

* * *

Chapter One

Ana POV

I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat as I stepped through the arrivals gate looking for the agency representative holding a sign with my name on it.

My gaze settled on the blonde woman with the big sign sticking up from the crowd. She was loudly-dressed as though she was at a party. She stood out like a sore thumb among the crowd at the airport.

"Hello," I mumbled, feeling nervous, and self-conscious.

"Anastasia?" The woman inquired. The way she was frowning at me while attempting to smile made me deeply uncomfortable.

"Yes," I answered, taking in the woman's moon-lit blonde hair and bright red lipstick. Something about her shades seemed unnatural.

"You're certainly prettier in person," she regarded me warily. Then, suddenly, her face broke into a wide phony smile. She was studying me as though I was a show pony.

"I'm Elena Lincoln, I'll be your escort to your new husband," the brash American woman smiled again and I wondered what role this woman would play in my new life. Was she a permanent fixture, or was she destined to become nothing more than a passing acquaintance?

I bit my lip I followed the woman to the luggage claim, taking in the new sights around me. I've never been to an airport before, I never imagined it would be this busy.

"Is this all?" Elena said with a sneer at the sight of my tattered suitcase. I didn't have many worldly possessions. I came to this country to save my family. The agency would be providing me with money in six monthly installments to put on the table for her mother and little sister. My mother's mental illness meant she couldn't make a decent living. My sister Maria was only fourteen; I didn't want to see her resort to begging or worse, selling her body to survive.

Answering the ad in the newspaper had been Jose's idea. My heart skipped a beat as she thought of my boyfriend of three years. I tried not to think of the fact that he had willingly married me off to someone else; it hurt too much. It had been an impossible situation, the only possible choice, I told my self over and over again. I hoped against hope that the man I was marrying would have enough money so that I could still send them money when the monthly installments ran out.

My eyes widened as we drove through the streets of Seattle and arrived at his place of residence. His home was a lot nicer than the mayor's house in my hometown. My thighs stuck to the leather seat of Elena Lincoln's plush car as we pulled into the circle driveway.

"Remember your new husband paid a lot of money for your company. Don't forget your training. Always smile and make sure you're always pleasant and entertaining company. Always defer to your husband's opinions and don't ever question his judgment. Understood? The last thing you want to do is upset him and have him send you back now, would you?" Elena's shrill laugh chilled me to the core. "I hope the agency didn't make a mistake in recruiting you."

I said nothing and the woman's gaze intensified. What could I possibly say to such a hostile comment?

"You don't speak much do you?" She looked at me with suspicion. " You do speak English, don't you?"

"I speak English," I replied curtly as we headed to the front steps to the house with impeccably manicured lawns. For the umpteenth time, I wondered who awaited me behind that door. Who would possibly want me considering I had been so surly and unbecoming in my interview video? I hoped my future husband valued honesty but I feared he might be a brute who liked a challenge. In any event, I was psychologically prepared in case the man was violent. I would never let my guard down, I would threaten to hit him with the next blunt object if I had to. It had certainly worked in the past.

I was not prepared for the brilliant gray eyes of the man who greeted me at the door.

"Welcome, Anastasia!" He said warmly, his hand equally warm as he shook mine. That smile of his eased a little the apprehension in my gut. "I'm Christian Grey." He was young and attractive and his voice was deep and smooth; he was nothing like the painfully lonely, crippled or repulsive man I had anticipated. If I didn't know for certain that this man had purchased me, I would have never pegged him for the type of man who would order a foreign bride without meeting her first.

Elena suddenly positioned herself between us breaking our eye contact. "Come with me," She demanded, grabbing me by the arm and whisking me away before I realized what was happening. "I'll show you to your room."

The bedroom she took me to was larger than I could have possibly imagined, something out of a storybook. I was absolutely speechless as I took in my luxurious surroundings.

"Here, take this," Elena spoke harshly pulling a rectangular box out of her purse. "It's a pregnancy test. Go in the bathroom, do your business and bring it back to me."

I looked at her in shock.

"Don't play all innocent. You surely didn't think a man like Christian Grey could trust a woman he's never met. Hurry up, he's waiting for you to sign the final papers."

I figured I didn't really have a choice. I entered the bathroom and shut the door behind me. My hands shook as I tore open the box and fumbled with the instructions. Oh, no, God, please let it be negative! I repeated over and over like an incantation.

"Hey, what's taking so long?" Elena knocked on the door.

"Wait, please!" I called in a thin voice. My hands continued to shake even as I unwrapped the stick and quickly read the instructions. Where I came from, pregnancy tests were hard to come by. There were two types of lines pictured. Next to the one-lined picture, it said NOT PREGNANT; whereas next to the two-lined picture it said, PREGNANT. So one line for negative, two lines for positive.

I peed on the stick and stared at it like it was a bomb that was about to explode. Knowing that woman was out there waiting for me made me even more nervous. God, please, I prayed. I've been good. I just want a chance. Don't let me be pregnant. I repent from all my sins. If you help me out here, I promise I will be your loyal faithful servant for the rest of my life. PLEASE!

Once again, Elena's voice rudely jarred me from my thoughts as she continued pounding on the door. A minute passed. I opened one eye,and then the other, and braced myself for the worst.

I blinked in disbelief. Two lines. NO, NO! I cried.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

After a minute, I wiped my eyes and opened the door very slowly. I was terrified of what this pregnancy meant for my future but showing fear right now will only give the other woman the upper hand. I was a survivor. Surviving in the streets, often not knowing where the next meal was coming from taught me how to deal with people like her. I handed over the pregnancy test and waited. I had no idea what this woman would do, but in the past, I've always been able to make lemonades out of lemons.

I met her gaze decidedly, determined to hide my fears. If there was one thing I knew, I could not let my guard down with this woman, not for a second.

A slow wicked smile curved around her lips. "Well, isn't that a surprise!" she let out a laugh and glanced back at my weathered suitcase now sitting on the bed. "No need for you to unpack, my dear. After this, you'll be on the next plane back to wherever you came from."

And with that, she left the room, slamming the door behind her. I let myself crumble, all alone in this room bigger than my family's entire house back when I was very young. I couldn't fall apart right now. My family depended on me. I thought of Jose. Tears start rolling down my face as I recall the painful look on his face when we said good-bye through a wall of tempered glass. Yes, signing up with the agency had been his idea but we had struggling to survive ever since he'd been incarcerated. Being a political prisoner in my country means he has no rights whatsoever. There was no hope for us now. Jose is a good man; he truly wanted the best for me. He had nothing to gain from my decision to sign up with the agency and everything to lose. There was no other choice for us, this decision was the best for me and my family. It was a sacrifice Jose was willing to make, knowing that this would forever break us apart.

Jose, my love, how I wish I could tell you what's happening...and the pregnancy test. Oh, God, no! I sighed, remembering my predicament. How could this happen? Never in a million years did I think I could possibly get pregnant. We've been careful; Jose pulled out every single time we had sex.

* * *

Christian POV

"She's pregnant," Elena triumphantly announced with a glowing smile. She has been against this from the start. "Well, you're certainly not thinking of marrying her now, are you?" She said.

I barely look up from the papers on my desk to give her a cursory glance, knowing full well this is not the answer she was hoping for.

I ignore her ranting and focus on what was important here. "Dr. Smith says my father has only a few days left, the next 72 hours are critical," I told her. I shake my head in disbelief. For the longest time, I refused to believe my father was dying, even after he was transferred to hospice care. "It's too late to find someone else now," I tell her. My father's dying wish is to see me married and with children. And I'm so close now to fulfilling that wish. I picture the smile on my father's face when I finally tell him that a grandchild is on the way; even if the grandchild in question is not technically his own flesh and blood. In reality, even if the child was mine, he or she would NOT be Carrick's blood relation since I was adopted.

"Christian!" Elena says, appalled. "You really can't be serious!"

I peered at her resolutely. "Is she ready? We need to sign the final papers."

"Christian, please! This is your chance to back out of this. If you're worried about the girl, the agency will make sure she still gets the money."

"Elena! Don't you get it? I'm not changing my mind no matter what you say...now scram. Have her wear something nice. The photographer is already here waiting in the sitting room. Make sure she looks like a happy bride."

* * *

Ana POV

Almost an hour later, I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, wearing a delicate white dress Elena had set out on the bed for me. The dress is a simple satin fabric, but it's certainly the most gorgeous thing I've ever worn. I gazed at my reflection and shake my head. I'm still in shock that Christian Grey still wanted to go ahead with the marriage contract.

When I finally come downstairs escorted by Elena, my eyes naturally seek his even though there are other people in the great room. There are other men whom I assume work for him and there is also a photographer, a young woman. Handing me a bouquet of roses, she went on to take several snapshots of me. I smile dutifully at her request. When she's done photographing me, she takes the bouquet and guides me over to the center of the room.

The entire time, I was acutely aware of Christian Grey staring at me with those gorgeous eyes of his. The photographer snapped more pictures, this time of both of us together.

Once the photography session is over, Christian put his hand on the small of my back, leading me to shake hands with a man sitting behind a grand mahogany desk.

"Ms. Anastasia, I'm Henry Steinberg, attorney at law. I need to go over the papers you will be signing today," He paused as Christian motions for me to take a seat beside him facing the desk. "This here is a prenuptial agreement stating that in case of a divorce, you will forfeit any claims to your husband's earnings and estate." He paused again to motion to the translator who started immediately translated everything into Spanish. "Are you ready to proceed forward?" He asked me after the translator was done translating.

Somehow I manage to nod in agreement; everything is happening so fast.

Even with the translation, I had trouble understanding. Noticing this, the translator, a man in his sixties, basically told me that by signing the papers I was giving up all rights as a wife to any of my husband's money.

I looked over at Christian who just winked at me in a way that made my stomach flip.

"You need to sign here and here, Mr. Steinberg handed me a gold fountain pen, pointing to several spots with a sticky note with a red arrow.

Oh, God. I take a deep breath to settle my nerves. I'm filled with contradictory thoughts. I'm in love with Jose, I remind myself. It's sinful to even think of another man in that way. But then, for the briefest moment as my gaze settled on Christian, I fantasized what it would be like to have sex with this gorgeous man, and I find the thought anything but revolting.

I dropped my gaze to sign the papers. At least I can feel good I'm not deceiving anybody. This man knows I'm having someone else's child and yet he's still marrying me. I signed my name. Just Anastasia with no last name. My hand shook a little while moving the pen across the paper. God, this felt surreal like I was suddenly living someone else's life.

"Congratulations, you're now married."

Christian and I lock eyes. For a moment, it's as if there is no one in the room but the two of us. Rising to his feet, he took both my hands and pulled me to stand. Then, with a boyish grin, he leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was aware of the photographer snapping a series of photographs. For a moment, I felt like I was floating. The kiss was brief and gentle, and more enjoyable than I'd ever anticipated.

We shook hands with Mr. Steinberg and the other people there, even Elena. She was wearing a permanent phony smile.

"You must be hungry after such a long trip," Christian murmured, very relaxed and welcoming, leading the way to the adjacent room. There was a buffet being served with half a dozen servants on standby, watching us. Without waiting for my response, he guides me over to the buffet to look at the food selection in silver platters.

My stomach grumbled and I turn away, embarrassed, thinking everybody in the room has heard. Christian smiled at me kindly, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. It's weird, but being this close to this man feels strangely comforting given that we've just met. Once again, I wonder what life will be like with this Adonis of a man.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

I couldn't believe my luck. Of all the awful lonely men I could have married, I'd gotten this insanely handsome millionaire with a smile that could have melted the iceberg that hit the Titanic. I was pondering on this when I realized I had missed something Christian said. He put his hand on my shoulder and I jumped a little in surprise.

"Didn't mean to frighten you," he motioned to the buffet table. "What would you like? There's beef, lamb, salmon, chicken?"

"Ah...yes...everything is good," I mumbled trying not to gawk at him. He did look quite handsome in his light gray suit and dark burgundy tie.

* * *

Christian POV

I smiled at her, very pleased that she was now my wife. I found every one of her reactions adorable. Anastasia was a dream come true. I had viewed her video hundreds of times, and never tired of it. I loved her mannerisms and her very distinctive Spanish accent. I loved how she spoke of her mother and younger sister; no doubt, their welfare was first and foremost on her mind. I found it admirable she was willing to sacrifice herself like that and plunge herself into the realm of the unknown.

My opinion of her hadn't changed even after Elena had barged in with the news- of -the- day. And while learning about the pregnancy was a complete surprise and there had been no mention of a boyfriend or a past boyfriend, but I wasn't worried. Whoever he was, he was forever buried in her past from this day forward.

* * *

Ana POV

Christian graciously stayed by my side and helped me with my meal selection. He made sure that everything was to my satisfaction. He guided me to a small cozy table set up just for the two of them decorated with white linen and a single red rose.

The entire time, he made me feel he had eyes only for me. In the back of my mind, I was aware of other things around us like the photographer snapping a few more candid pictures, and of the staff watching us with curiosity. But for the most part, I was intensely focused on him.

"This is all so delicious," I mumbled gratefully wiping my lips with a cloth napkin. I noticed that Christian barely touched his own plate; he seemed to derive great pleasure from watching my reaction as I tried different dishes.

"Would you like some help unpacking?" He later asked me, so relaxed and welcoming as though settling new wives into his home was something he did every day.

We went upstairs. Christian guided me to a completely different room than the one Elena had taken me to. While I was looking forward to changing into something more comfortable, I shivered at the thought of Christian undressing me. Whoa! Where did that thought come from?

He furrowed his brow as he scanned the room. "Where are your things?"

I hesitated. "In the other room."

His voice sounded thunderous. "What other room?"

I looked helplessly down the hallway. I had no idea which room Elena had taken me into. Christian went into six different rooms until they found the one with her suitcase sitting on the bed.

He shook his head in disapproval. "Elena shouldn't have taken you here. Her instructions were for her to take you to OUR room."

I was speechless. _I don't know why I expected us to have different rooms. OUR room?_

Christian moved my suitcase into another room, one that was at least twice as big as the first one. "This is our room, Anastasia."

Our eyes locked, I absolutely loved the way he said my name, long version and all. I was vaguely aware of standing awkwardly in the middle of his bedroom.

"Sweetheart, I know we haven't had a chance to talk much, except that one time, but I hope that you will soon feel at home with me."

How could I ever forget? The agency had facilitated a private conversation on their computer between Christian and I. The conversation had flowed well but the picture quality had been a bit blurry. Besides, I hadn't been able to see his face all that well except for those eyes of his. He had been sitting at a desk, with his face partially buried in his hands. This had made me think that perhaps he had a facial disfigurement of some sort he hadn't wanted me to see, and that's why he'd needed a mail-order bride.

* * *

Christian POV

Our conversation on FaceTime had flowed really well. I only wished I'd recorded the session. I would have played it a million times just like I'd re-played her introductory video. I stepped away from the bed and moved closer to her. "You must find it really strange that I was in such a rush to get married," I gazed into her eyes and she lowered her lashes.

I then lifted her chin gently and our eyes locked once again.

"I have a confession to make," I paused, making sure I had her complete attention before continuing. "My father is terminally ill. Part of the reason I wanted you here was so that he could meet you before he dies. His dying wish is to see me happily married. I told him about you, that you and I have been corresponding for quite a while. I want him to meet you tomorrow morning, after a good night's rest."

Ana simply nodded, she was looking at me with spellbound expression on her face.

I was on a roll, so I might as well put all the cards on the table.

"I have another confession to make," I told her. "I have been completely obsessed with you ever since I saw your video."

Ana was so shocked she took a step back in retreat.

"Hey, I know it sounds weird, but I really have the best intentions here. I'm not a monster. Just because I'm in love with you doesn't mean I will try forcing myself on you. No way, that's not my style. My only hope is that in due time you'll grow to love me too."

* * *

Ana POV

My jaw dropped. Never in a million years, I would have expected this. "Oh...Mr. Grey...I don't know what to say..."

Christian furrowed his brow. "Please call me Christian," he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips.

"Okay, Christian," I gave him a small smile, testing the sound of his name on my lips. For a moment, his eyes darkened, and something crackled between us, something akin to electricity.

"I'm really hoping you will give me a chance, Anastasia," he reiterated.

"Please call me Ana. Everybody calls me Ana."

"Okay," he cocked his head, studying me intently. "I much prefer Anastasia," he pursed his lips. "But alright, if you insist," he added with a boyish smile.

I decided I might as well take a page out of his book while we were at it. "And I have a confession to make," I told him. "I have a boyfriend. My heart belongs to him and I don't think that will ever change." I braced herself, waiting for his awful side to come forth, but no, he was a true storybook gentleman.

* * *

Christian POV

I looked away. I hated hearing that but once again, I appreciated her honesty. She had been honest from the start, I'd known that money had been her motivation for this marriage; never did she made it appear as though she was looking for a real relationship. The fact that she was upfront about needing money was refreshing; most of the women I knew were after me for the same reason, except that they went to great lengths to hide it.

"Fair enough," I managed a small smile. I was trying to look at the big picture here. There was no hurry. One way or another, even if it took me the rest of my life, I was going to get her to fall in love with me.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

Ana POV

"Ana, would you like to change into something more... comfortable?" Christian asked me, noting that I was still wearing my wedding dress if I could call it that. In reality, ours had been a civil marriage ceremony.

The sound of his baritone voice stirred something in me that I couldn't simply ignore. Just the thought of Christian Grey undressing me sent delicious shivers down my spine. My inner goddess was sending me mixed signals. She was clearly smitten by my new husband. On the other hand, she was also frowning, disaproving of me. I should be missing Jose. What kind of woman even thinks of jumping into the bed of another man's while her beloved rots in prison?

I looked at my new husband through my lashes. I think of the ratty nightgown on the bottom of my suitcase, embarrassed at the thought of him seeing me in that.

He smoothly moved to the dresser and opened a drawer. "Here. I hope one of these fits you well," he said pulling out of the drawer an assortment of satiny clothing. They're so soft and beautiful, hard to believe they're sleepwear. "I'll be back in a little while," he went on with a tiny wink. "Please don't feel nervous. I want you to feel right at home. And while we will sleep in the same bed, I promise you I will not touch you without your consent first."

He exited the room to give me privacy, and I'm blown away by his gallant behavior. I felt like a princess in a palace. I glide to the bathroom to take a shower, it's been forever since I've taken one. The bathroom was surreal, it was at least three times as big as any bathroom I'd ever seen, and it was well stocked with everything I could possibly need. I carefully took off my beautiful dress and placed it on a chair, careful not to get it wrinkled and then eagerly step under the shower-head and scream. In my haste, I failed to realize the water was steaming hot.

Next thing I knew, Christian was pulling me out of the water and straight into his arms. I was shaken and gasping for breath.

"Sh...it's okay," he cradled my head soothingly. "I should have stayed and made sure you were safe," he shook his head, angry at himself.

Through tears, I explained that back home hot water NEVER comes out of the faucet. I continue to shiver in his arms, very much conscious of my nakedness. "Oh, no! you getting wet!"

He laughed good-naturedly, not worried about his suit getting wet at all. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he kissed the top of my head and turned to grab a towel. I hold my breath when at last his gaze traveled up and down my body. "Where does it hurt?" he openly examined my body with utmost concern.

I shook my head no, I was fine.

He reached to touch my shoulder. "Your skin is a little red here," he mumbled while grazing the skin softly with his fingertips. His touch sent a million little shivers down my spine. Most reluctantly, he pulled away to reach for a bottle from the medicine cabinet. Actually, the cabinet was more like a large storage closet. "This is aloe, it's wonderful for both burns and sunburns. It should help," he carefully rubbed a bit of the creamy lotion onto my sore shoulder.

"It's nothing," I said weakly even though I felt as if my knees are about to buckle from under me.

"How's that feel?" His concern for me is so touching. I don't think anybody has ever touched me so tenderly over an injury so minor. Not even Jose.

"I like it...my skin feels good."

"We'll keep an eye on it and if it gets worse, we'll call the doctor."

I choke a laugh. A doctor? For this mild redness on my skin?

He cocked his head. "What's so funny?"

"Hmm," I hesitated. "Back home we only go to to the doctor for emergencies...really bad ones, you know?" I smiled at him. Somehow, that's not exactly how I want to say it but my English was failing me at the moment.

"Here," he mumbled, looking away respectfully as he wraps the towel around me. Knowing that he wants me 'in that way' makes me self-conscious, especially because I was well aware of his erection. "Is there anything else you need? I should have asked you earlier." He turned away, and I smiled to myself as he adjusted himself.

"I'm fine, thank you," I smile shyly.

The look in his eyes when he turned around to face me would make any woman with a pulse blush. He was staring at my shoulder as if he wanted to press his lips to my skin more than anything in the world. I had to admit, I'd never felt so wanted and cared for in my entire life. For a moment, I imagined what it would be like if the circumstances were different. If I'd never slept with Jose...If I'd never gotten pregnant. If I wasn't carrying around so much baggage...then this moment would be the perfect moment, worthy of a riveting romance novel, wouldn't it?

It was crazy. Or maybe I'm the crazy one. Here I was living the life most of my girlfriends back home would die for and yet...

I studied him as he focused on taking care of me. "Does it sting when I touch you?" He asked, feather touching my shoulder with the back of his hand. I closed my eyes for a moment, getting a little carried away in this little fantasy of mine where it was just the two of us and nothing else mattered.

"No," I breathe. For a moment there I thought he was about to kiss me but then, he turned and walked away. I held my breath. Half-way out the bedroom door, he turned to face me.

"I'll be in the next room if you need me, just knock." The next room was connected to the master with a side door.

I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding the second he closed the door behind him, only to open it again two seconds later, startling me. "Silly of me. Are you still showering? I can get the water perfect temperature for you."

I smiled in response. "Yes, that would be nice."

He was at my side quicker than seemed possible. He smiled back briefly, adjusting the shower knob to the right temperature. He then waited a few seconds before checking the water temperature. "Right now the water is lukewarm. Not too hot or too cold," he says, inviting me to put out my hand and check for myself. He peered at me expectantly.

"This is nice," I say shyly. Not wanting to waste any water (water is precious commodity), I wanted to hurry and get in the shower but I'm hesitant to drop the towel in front of him even though he's already seen me naked.

He immediately understood my dilemma and exited the room, closing the door behind him. I then stepped under the shower and lather my hair in shampoo. The shampoo was very sudsy, it felt heavenly. Next, I applied a small amount of conditioner. Since I don't see a soap bar, I have no choice but to use the shampoo to wash the rest of my body. I feel guilty using too much of the product and try to make do with the smallest amount possible.

When I came out of the bathroom, dressed in a silky nightgown that hangs right above the knee, I found Christian already in bed reading on his phone. He was wearing a white t-shirt, which outlined his shoulders to perfection, and a pair of light blue pajama pants. I recall what he said about us not having sex and wonder if it's even possible considering we're sleeping in the same bed.

* * *

Christian POV

I want Ana to trust me, trust is fundamental in a good relationship (or so I heard). I motioned for her to the other side of the bed, and put an army of pillows between us to show her that I mean what I said earlier. At first, she was a little shy clad in her silky lingerie but my actions make her laugh. She climbed in bed with a smile and pulled the covers up to her chin.

"You must be so tired," I said, stretching in a comical way to look at her over the mountain of pillows. She chuckled, rewarding me with the most perfect carefree smile ever. She looked gorgeous lying next to me with her damp hair sprawled out on the pillow. I put away my phone, reaching for the bed-lamp to turn off the light.

"Goodnight...Christian," she mumbled, turning to her bedside lamp to turn off her light.

My heart flipped, I felt like a clueless schoolboy, enamored with the sound of my name on her lips.

"Goodnight, Ana."

For a long time, I lay perfectly still in the darkness of the room. How I long to reach for her. God, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought, sleeping next to her every night like this. What was I thinking? I tossed and turn all night, thinking of nothing but the feel of her velvety soft skin, and the image of her naked body burned in my mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

Ana POV

That night, I jolted awake startled. Christian was sitting up in bed, scratching at his eyes and frantically waving his hands it into nothingness.

"No, NO!" He muttered incoherently.

Despite being disoriented, I quickly swept the army of pillows out of the way; they flew across the room like wounded soldiers.

"Christian, Christian, are you alright?"

Although his frantic movements had stopped, he was still visibly shaken. I gripped his shoulder, putting every effort into sending the comforting message, _I'm here._

Christian drew his knees to his chest, put his face in his hands and wept. He sat there for a long time, never lifting his head. My arms wrapped around him but by then, he was wide awake and ashamed of me seeing him cry. It wasn't until I cradled his head in my chest that his sobs finally subsided.

"You had a bad dream? It's okay, tell me."

It took him a while to pull himself together. At last, he wiped his eyes and took a few deep breaths before speaking.

"It was horrible. I was at my father's funeral, it was so vivid I thought it was happening for real. He was dead. And the next moment, he was still alive, I saw him in his coffin with his eyes wide open. He kept calling my name. I grabbed a shovel and started digging but no matter how deep..." He trailed off, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I couldn't get to him. When I finally dug up the coffin I realized he was a skeleton, a living skeleton. He was talking to me like he was still alive but my mind kept telling he was dead, I'd been at his funeral."

"Oh, Christian... I'm so sorry!" I opened her arms to him and he fell into my embrace. We stayed like that for a long time until he was no longer hunted by the gruesome images in his head.

"I hate being a mess," he told me turning to peer into my eyes for the first time since waking up. Looking into his eyes, I felt a pang of sympathy at his raw- palpable grief.

* * *

Christian POV

I needed to pull myself together. I lay down on my pillow and stared at the ceiling. "My father is all the family I have left. The doctors have been telling me for months that there wasn't anything else they can do for him. I refused to believe it, I wanted to hang onto hope."

"I'm sorry," Ana said, deeply moved, her eyes full of tears. "My father died when I was five. He was sick in bed for many days. I remember going to see him and sitting by his bedside," she told me, grimacing at the memory and I reached for her hand.

She opened her mouth to say more, " I'm sorry, I can't really explain... my English."

"No, no. Your English is fine. Take your time," I said in awe of her, remembering how she'd said in her introductory video that she'd taught herself to read and speak English. I'd taken Spanish in high school with a native instructor and additional private tutoring, and it was still quite a challenge. Learning how to speak the language had been frustrating; my pronunciation was simply awful and no amount of practice seemed able to fix it. And here she was, this exotic beauty, able to speak a foreign language with only a very slight accent. It was mind-boggling. "Actually, your English is nearly flawless," I said, sitting up in bed and looking intently into her eyes.

The way Ana blushed at the compliment was too adorable. "You were telling me about your father," I prompted her to continue when she didn't immediately respond.

* * *

Ana POV

I knew I was blushing. Still, I gazed into his face, admiring the quiet and thoughtful expression he wore along with just the tiniest hint of vulnerability.

"Yes," I replied feeling like an idiot for gawking. I shook my head, forcing myself to stay on the subject at hand. "I meant to say my father held my hand and squeezed it tight. I didn't know it was the last time. I thought he was going to be fine," I went on with a new sudden onset of tears in my eyes.

Christian wiped my tears with the pad of his thumb. "That must have been so hard for you, you were so young."

I nodded. "It's still hard when I think about it," I said in a thin voice. "Tell me more about your father. What do the doctors think?"

"I hated seeing him go through chemo, it's been dreadful," he paused. "This thing...seeing a loved one go through an illness like this, it changes you...you know what I mean?"

* * *

Christian POV

Ana nodded, even though she really didn't know what it was like since her own father had died when she was so young. The memories of a child are not the same as an adult's.

"Going through something like this, watching someone you love go through a terminal illness changes how you see life. You no longer take anything for granted, believe me. So when my father expressed how much he wished he could live to see the day to see me married with kids, I thought who was I to deny him his peace of mind, his dying wish? So I started looking for someone on dating sites. I thought that maybe finding my better half would make him so happy he would beat this thing...that the hope of seeing his grandchildren would give him a new reason to live," he paused, his expression suddenly bright and dreamy. "And then, I saw you, Ana. From the minute I saw you on that screen, I knew you were the one."

Ana looked away. When she looked into my eyes again, I saw shame mixed in with regret. "But I'm not the virgin wife you expected," she said sadly.

I smiled a little, she sounded like a time traveler from a different century. "Ana, sweetheart, believe it or not, that wasn't one of my requirements."

Ana was surprised to hear that. She said that where she came from, virginity was a very desirable quality in females.

"But you can't possibly want me. I am damaged and I'm having another man's baby," she insisted.

I ran a hand through the back of my neck. Admittedly, I had mixed feelings about this pregnancy. While it seemed to work for my purposes, I didn't really like the idea of her having another man's child all that much. Still, I needed to get over my own selfishness. "When you go to see my father tomorrow, I want you to tell him you're pregnant. It will make him very happy."

She looked at me as though I'd grown horns on the back of my head. "You cannot be serious?"

"I am. Like I said, my father is dying, and right now his happiness is more important to me than anything. My birth mother was a drug addict. My parents came and rescued me from a life of misery. I can't possibly thank them enough for all they did for me."

* * *

Ana POV

I thought about what he said long and hard. There was so much she wanted to say but she didn't have the right words. "Where is your mother?" I asked in a quiet voice, not knowing, but suspecting that maybe she had passed away.

"Which one? My birth mother or my adopted one?" he asked with a sad smile. He went on before I could answer. "They're both dead. My adoptive mother, her name was Grace, she died shortly after I was adopted. After many years of trying to have children, she'd finally got pregnant, just a few months after I got adopted...and then she died in childbirth," he said with a long sigh.

"In childbirth?" I shook my head in amazement. This was the United States of America. I thought dying in childbirth was a curse of developing nations only.

"Hers was a high-risk pregnancy., I don't know the details. I never asked, my father never really wanted to talk about it."

"Did she have a boy or a girl?"

"She had a girl," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Where is she now?"

"My father...he gave her up for adoption."

I drew a sharp breath of surprise. "But...why?"

"My mother's death nearly destroyed my dad. He was a shadow of himself in those early days. He couldn't stand the thought of having their child around reminding him of his loss, it was too painful."

"And he never changed his mind?" I asked pointedly in disbelief. "He never tried to find her?"

* * *

Christian POV

Earlier, I had made it sound like Carrick had one dying wish, when in fact he had another dying wish, one that I had no intention of fulfilling.

"Well, he did change his mind eventually. A few months ago, he asked me to find his daughter but I haven't found her yet," I said, lowering my gaze. Admittedly, I could have done more to try to find my sister but in reality, I had given the task a half-hearted effort. "I've done all I can," I murmured. At least now I was trying my best to fulfill my father's second wish.

We were both quiet for a short while, thinking about this. I glanced at my phone, I needed to get ready for work. I wondered if she was going to be okay alone in the house without me. It was probably normal for her to have a little trouble settling in. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be in her shoes, living a new life in a foreign land, and I simply didn't know how I could cope. I needed to be in control of my circumstances to function.

"Did Elena give you a proper tour of the house? I'm heading for work pretty soon and I want you to feel comfortable here. _Mi casa es su casa__."_

* * *

Ana POV

I nodded. I didn't feel I need to elaborate on my thoughts of Elena. I wished he hadn't changed the topic of conversation, I wanted to learn more about Christian and his family. Next thing, he was digging in his nightstand for something. He pulled out a cell phone. "This is for you. You can text me when I'm at work any time if you need anything."

"Hmm...What do you mean?"

* * *

Christian POV

There was an embarrassing silence. It hadn't occurred to me that Ana didn't know how to send text messages. Surely, she'd used a smartphone before? "Texting means sending short written messages using your cell phone."

I spent the next few minutes showing Ana how to do this and how to surf the internet. Right after that, I jumped in the shower, thinking he would later take Ana to see Carrick right before leaving for work.

Ana was still messing with the phone I'd given her when I came out of the shower a few minutes later dripping wet, and clad in a towel. I immediately went into the closet, fully aware she was checking me out. Because I knew she was watching, I purposefully dropped the towel, giving her a side view of my naked body as I looked for something to wear.

* * *

Ana POV

From where I was sitting on the bed, I got a partial view of him naked. It was enough to heighten all my senses. Lord, he was beautiful. Honestly, Jose couldn't hold a candle to him.

I heard him call my name. Lord, I was tempted to follow him in there but I felt a bit self-conscious. He'd turned on all the lights in the room and I felt the nightgown I was wearing was so thin and revealing. I certainly had never worn anything like this before.

"Yes, just a minute."

My suitcase was sitting on a chair beside the dresser.

I quickly slid into a floral short sleeve dress that reached right below the knee. It was one of the best outfits I owned. Suddenly concerned about morning breath, I grabbed my toothbrush and ran into the bathroom.

By the time I came out, Christian was fully dressed in suit and tie, his hair tossed and damp from the shower. He looked more handsome than ever sporting a boyish grin, standing in the middle of the walk-in closet.

"Come here," he murmured softly.

I hesitated before crossing over to the enormous space divided by an island in the middle, separating his clothing from hers. The island was full of shoes tucked in dividers and along the top, was jewelry all laid out on display. Hanging on her side of the closet was a variety of clothing arranged by color with the tags hanging.

Stunned, I covered her mouth with my hands and looked around in amazement.

"I hope you find everything to your liking, and they're the right fit," he said.

"This all so...beautiful," I said unable to come up with a more descriptive adjective. "Is this for me?" I asked, barely above a whisper in disbelief.

He smiled in response. "Ana," he murmured my name softly, bridging the distance between us, my senses overcome by the scent of his aftershave. "I don't want you to think of yourself as damaged. You're gorgeous and precious to me, okay," he said lifting my chin to meet his gaze.

"But...what about the baby?"

"What about it? I thought I made it clear we will tell my father about the pregnancy and present him as ours."

I shook my head, uncertain.

Christian looked at me probingly. "I'm assuming that's what you want to do? You do want to keep this baby, right?"

I bit my lip. Why was Christian asking me this? I didn't think I had much of choice...unless he was talking about giving it up for adoption?

* * *

Christian POV

"Please don't bite your lip like that, Anastasia," I admonished. "It's a bad habit, it shows insecurity." Plus it also made me twitch, but I wasn't about to tell her that. After all, I was trying to sweep her off her feet, not scare her away.

"Yes, I'm keeping the baby ," she said in a resigned voice.

I nodded. I respected a woman's right to choose; I would be completely on board if she wanted an abortion. "Very well then. C'mon, let's go see my father," I told her, taking my hand in his. "Unless you'd rather change first?" I asked tactfully. Honestly, the dress she was wearing looked like it had seen better days and I wanted to see her wearing something more becoming.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter six

Ana POV

Christian wanted me to change. For a minute I stared at him like an idiot, feeling self-conscious. Taking my silence as an answer, he stepped out so I could change. Alone in the extravagant closet, I felt overwhelmed by the choices available to me. Again, I thought how back home all my friends would trade places with me in an instant. What would Jenny, my fashionista friend do? What would she suggest I wear?

I ended up selecting a cute pair of black denim and a turquoise crisscross halter top with an under-bust seam. To my astonishment, there was a pair of low-heeled sandals that perfectly matched the color of the halter top. I stared myself in the mirror in awe of how sexy I looked without intending to. Christian's eyes widened appreciatively seeing me dressed like that.

When we got downstairs, breakfast had just been served in silver platters. The housekeeper, Mrs. Jones, had set the table with gold-rimmed china and a vase of daisies in the middle of the time. She seemed friendly and made me feel instantly welcomed. I smiled back in appreciation.

Since Christian and I were sitting directly across from each other, we had to talk around the huge flower arrangement until he removed with a ceremonious chuckle that made me laugh. I found myself enjoying these glimpses of his playful side in spite of everything he was going through.

I tried a little bit of everything; in the end, my stomach was so full I was afraid I couldn't get up from my chair. But I had just had two large meals in a row, one for dinner and one for breakfast, my poor stomach was not used to such indulgences.

"Ana, are you alright?" Christian said as realization dawned on him as I rubbed my belly using the universal hand gesture for 'I'm too full.'

For one awful moment, remembering I was pregnant, I became afraid of throwing up all over the beautiful table, but God must have taken pity on me for the feeling quickly passed.

We stayed seated for a little while enjoying each other's company until I felt better. Christian broke away for a few moments to send a message canceling his meeting this morning, he was going to getting to his office a little later than usual, he said.

Afterward, Christian took me to his father's room. I was quite nervous; sensing that, he held my hand and reassured me that his father was going to love me.

With that thought in mind, we entered the room. I was prepared to be shocked by what I saw but nothing could have prepared me for the look in his father's eyes. I had grown up surrounded by people who viewed death as a taboo, something they were too afraid to discuss or even acknowledge. Seeing someone on their death bed, therefore, was a trying experience in itself, imagine meeting someone for the first time under those circumstances, and you had a recipe for disaster (emotionally speaking, that is).

"So you must be the girl who stole my son's heart," Carrick Grey appraised me with a smile in his voice. His words were laborious but other than that, he seemed in a cheerful mood. His mood was so bright, it became easier to ignore the scary-looking machines surrounding him.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Grey," I smiled, reaching to touch his hand. "I'm Anastasia but people call me Ana."

Beside me, Christian squeezed my hand, it was an emotional moment for him. He looked as if he was about to cry and smile at the same time.

"Ana...you call me Carrick. You're part of the family now. You're a beautiful young lady, nice meeting.." he paused mid-sentence, overcome by a sudden cough attack.

Christian rushed to his father's side, concerned. "Dad. Don't over-exert yourself."

"I just want to get to know your beautiful bride my son," Carrick said his expression pained.

"Dad, there will be plenty of time for that," Christian said and Carrick gave him a dubious look.

"Yes, I will be coming here every day and stay for as long as you like," I said. I didn't know what made me say that except that it was coming from my heart. I liked this man and wanted to give him as much of my time as he wanted.

"That sounds lovely, I get bored here you know," Carrick mumbled, looking suddenly tired.

"You like to read?" I asked and Carrick nodded.

"I can't read much in my condition. It's exhausting."

"I can read to you anytime," I said. Feeling Christian's gaze, I turned to look at him and was rewarded by a look of profound gratitude.

By now, Carrick looked like he could barely keep his eyes open. The nurse stepped over to tend to him and we both told Carrick we will be coming back to see him a little later.

* * *

….

I watched Christian close the door behind him, I could tell right away the visit affected him greatly, he was back to feeling torn up.

"I changed my mind...today I'm working from home," he said, taking my hand to guide me into his home office. "Thanks so much for your kindness to my father today."

"It's...it's nothing," I said a little nervously. I wanted to tell him how much my heart went out to him and his father for but I just couldn't find the words.

We stepped into his office and he made a beeline for his desk. He appeared relieved and sank into the chair as though he wanted to become one with it. He motioned for me to sit across from him.

If there anything else you need to help you settle in, you can ask Elena. She will be in a little later this morning."

I took a seat and took in my surroundings. Everything was so exquisitely elegant. "Settle in?"

"That means getting used to the house, it's a big house," he smiled and I smiled back.

I didn't think Elena would be helping me with anything but I said nothing.

"How about your family? Surely, you'll want them to know of your safe arrival."

"Do you want to call your mom? Does she have a number?" He asked, ready to start dialing, and I stared at the phone in his hands like it was a foreign object even though I had used the phone he'd given me earlier. It took me a moment to realize that this meant I would get to hear my mom's and sister's voice in real-time.

"We don't have a phone," I said sadly. No landlines, no cell phones. If only we did. It would be so wonderful to be able to talk to my family every day, that would be a luxury beyond anything I had imagined before I decided to come here.

"Or email her? Video chat?" Christian continued. He seemed eager to find something that would make me happy.

I stared at him wide-eyed. I didn't know what email was. I did have an idea about video-chatting since back home, I had talked to Christian in real-time through the agency.

"You can see her here and talk to her live, just like when you went to the agency."

I gasped. The technology that existed in America was amazing. No one in my town had a computer, only government officials, and a few merchants who owned successful businesses.

"We don't have a computer at home either...nor does anyone I know have a phone like yours," I said feeling even sadder.

"We'll have to do something about that," he said, looking determined. He then grabbed a pad of paper. "Here, next to your mom's address, write the names and addresses of all of your friends."

I looked away, embarrassed. "My family doesn't really have an address."

Christian looked at me with a shocked expression. "What about the address you gave the agency?"

"That is not...we are wanderers. That is, we may be here one day and another day the next. My mom is frequently at the hospital and my little sister, Maria sometimes stays at a convent, sometimes with friends." The longest place they ever lived in was the house they'd occupied while her daddy was still alive, this was the place she still thought of as her home even to this day, even though she hadn't set foot inside the place in years.

Christian's mouth dropped open, and at that moment, I could read his mind like a book. Clearly, he's wishing now that he'd asked me more personal questions about my home life.

"Back up a little. What do you mean your mom is at a hospital? What's wrong with her?"

"One of the reasons she can't hold a job is that she has frequent episodes where she loses control, it's a mental illness," I said, avoiding his gaze.

"What kind of mental illness?" He asked, his eyes still as wide as saucers.

"Anxiety and depression."

Christian visibly breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay," he hesitated. "I wouldn't consider those two serious mental illnesses."

"It can get bad. Sometimes she can't get out of bed when she's in a crisis. I had to quit my job so I could take care of her when she's not in the hospital...I had a job before that but then I was fired when I had to miss a few days staying home with her."

"Sounds like you've had a hard life," he muttered and I nodded, thinking he hadn't even heard half of it.

"But I think there's something we can do about this. I can start looking into bringing your family here to America if you want..."

He stood up and came around his desk. His eyes were smiling kindly at me and before I could help myself, I had flung my arms around his neck, clinging to him in gratitude I could barely express.

"Thank you!" I buried my face in his neck where it met his shoulder. He smelled of divine aftershave. "Thank you, thank you!" I said my lips barely grazing his skin.

He chuckled, surprised and a little winded by me launching myself at him. His strong arms wrapped around me reassuringly. I could feel the happiness coming off him in waves. Clearly, he was quite pleased to have found something that made me happy.

I couldn't believe my luck. I could talk to Maria and mom every day and see their faces and would not have to worry about mom having another episode or whether Maria had enough to eat for breakfast before she went to school. As awful as it was being in a foreign country with a near stranger, this marriage was proving to be a sensible idea. Yes, I was incredibly fortunate to get such a kind, generous husband.

"We can't have you missing your family," he smiled. "I'd like to meet them too...and for them to know that I can take care of you."

I didn't know how I felt about Christian meeting my family. It felt so personal. But then again, he was my husband, wasn't he? I giggled inwardly. I supposed I still need to get used to this new life of mine.

As if to punctuate this point, Christian bent his head and kissed my lips gently. His touch was impossibly gentle. I couldn't help but trust him even though a tiny part of me was still a little wary. I had prepared for a mean husband, a cruel one, a boring one, but I hadn't considered one that was this disarmingly sincere.

Would he always be this gentle and kind to me? It was such a new feeling, I was still trying to wrap my head around everything that was Christian Grey.

**Author's note:**

Chapter's too short? It takes me a lot of effort to write each sentence, English is my second language. However, I will try posting a little more often (twice a week). Next chapter will have lots of drama, beware, it will be intense!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

Christian's POV

We looked into each other's eyes for a very long time before I lowered my lips to hers again. This time, I lingered there until at last her lips parted and allowed me to explore her mouth gently but insistently. My tongue slid to that tender spot behind her ear, and she trembled against me. Oh, God, how I wanted her at that moment. My eyes closed as my lips crashed against hers like a powerful tsunami, the taste of her lips hot and needy as she pulled on the collar of my shirt until the top button popped open. It was then that I realized she craved me as much as I craved her.

"Christian, darling, I hope I'm not interrupting."

Elena cleared her throat. The sound of her voice broke us apart, it jolted me like wild wire. I never resented the woman more than at that moment.

…...

Ana POV

I followed Elena out of Christian's office. Per Christian's insistence, she was going to give me a tour of the house. She was smiling a lot and acting nice, and I was suspicious. She obviously had an agenda, I just had not figured out yet what she was up to.

She led me into the home library which was more magnificent than anything I had ever seen or could have possibly imagined. In my home town, there wasn't even a library. I never had a choice as to what to read; my reading materials were hand-me-downs. They were usually textbooks that schools were getting ready to toss in favor of newer editions. So, as you can imagine, I was in heaven.

While I browsed the many titles lining up the walls, she went behind the grand mahogany desk and sat down at the computer. For a while, she typed furiously away like a woman on a mission.

A long time passed, I don't know how long as I was absorbed in the amazing world of books, books that at first, I was afraid to ruin then just by touching them.

"I have someone who wants to speak to you, Anastasia."

At once, I whipped my head in her direction. I didn't understand. Who would want to speak to me over the phone? I knew no one in this country. I put the receiver to my ear.

"_Hola?_ Ana?"

As soon as I heard the sound of his voice, my heart filled with joy. "_Jose, Jose? Eres tu?_" I laughed and cried at the same time; I couldn't believe it was really him on the other end of the line.

"_Oh, Mi amor, como estas_?" He mumbled and my heart melted. I told him I was fine and that my new husband was treating me well. Our conversation continued while Elena watched us with an unreadable expression. I barely paid attention to her, I was so focused on Jose and what he was telling me.

He was sorry, he said, he should have never agreed to this marriage. Admittedly, this was a little shocking to hear since it had been HIS idea for me to become a mail-order bride and not mine. I was too stunned to say anything.

"_Te quiero mucho, vida mia,_" Jose said and my heart thundered with excitement and told him we were having a baby. After a long moment of silence, I heard him sobbing on the other end of the line. He kept telling me he was going to come over and be with me. I didn't see how this was going to happen since he was thousands of miles away locked up in a prison.

Once again he told me he loved me. There was a moment of awkward silence as I hesitated.

"Yo tambien te quiero mucho," I told him at last, all caught up in nostalgia and conflicting emotions. All I knew for sure was that Jose was everything, my lover, my best friend since forever.

After we hung up, my thoughts immediately drifted back to Christian.

I felt guilty for kissing him when I was clearly in love with another man. And yet, whatever it was I felt for Christian had the power to make me forget the love of my life. It was quite mortifying to think that if Elena hadn't come in when she did earlier this evening, I don't know what would have happened. As it was, I didn't have much faith in my own ability to ward off Christian's advances. I've been weak once already, allowing Jose to take me to his bed which went against my upbringing. I must admit, I'm attracted to Christian as much as I was once attracted to Jose, if not more. Attracted? No, I mean, I'm still attracted to Jose, I think. I sigh. Oh, God, I'm so confused.

"I hope you had a nice conversation," Elena said with a sly smile.

"It was. Thank you for making it happen," I said in a dry tone.

"You're welcome. It's been my absolute pleasure."

It occurred to me right then and there, that this woman was certainly going to tell Christian about this, and I braced myself for whatever was coming my way.

…...

Christian POV

I tried to concentrate on work but it was hopeless. Once again I wondered about the timing of death. I was sick and tired of people telling me that it was God's timing. I still can't wrap my head around this-how is God's will supposed to be comforting?

The truth was, God's will was supposed to be coping mechanisms of sorts, a way to make sense of a horrific event, because if there isn't a reason for people to die, if there isn't a god who is calling people home or deciding it's their time, it's harder to understand, harder to accept. I get that. I still don't find it comforting in the least.

If life is a series of random events and the only mother who ever loved me died randomly when I was only five, and if now my father is randomly on his death bed, then life is a crap-shoot, a game of chance. And if you follow that logic, my father could have gotten sick ten years ago or ten years from now. The question then becomes, why now?

The bottom line? I'm angry. Angry at God, angry at life. Angry at my father. How dare he leave me before I have everything figured out?

Here I am debating the purpose of life when I haven't taken a philosophy course in years. I did take a psychology course during my freshman year. The professor had made a point about knowing the outcome of a particular event made people more comfortable. That was why New York had installed all those time clocks on their subway lines, he explained. Installing the clocks didn't make the trains come more frequently, but passengers could see when they were supposed to arrive, and knowing that they had to wait four to seven minutes made them feel less agitated. They were able to plan. Their faith in the transit authorities increased. The whole city was calmer during rush hour. It was a smart psychological move.

How I wished I had a time clock for life. If only I knew exactly how much time I had left with my father, I would act one way versus another, I would time things just right.

But since I didn't know exactly how long I had before dad's condition deteriorated, I decided right then and there that there was no time like the present moment. For all I knew, he could die tomorrow. At this stage in the game, I no longer believed that seeing me settled down with a family would give him the will to hang onto life, but at least, it would make his last days a little brighter.

Yes. It was time to make the big reveal about Ana's pregnancy. I could already envision the look of joy on my father's face. With that thought in mind, I went to check that dad was awake and then went to find Anastasia.

I found her in the library alone reading Jane Eyre.

"Hi, can you come with me to see my father, he's awake."

Ana smiled at me but there was something different about her smile, and I wondered what the heck has happened in my absence. I said nothing, intensely focused on the meeting with dad, I take her hand and head upstairs.

"Hello again," he greeted us, managing a smile. He doesn't fool me for a second. He's in pain and trying to hide it. Honestly, I don't know how much more I can take, watching him like this. It is quite horrible.

"Dad, Ana and I have something special we'd like to share with you," I paused. "We're in the family way."

All at once, his face brightened up like a Christmas tree. "Congratulations!" he muttered, overcome with emotion. His gaze met mine and in that one look, he let me know he was proud of me. Then, he reached his hand out to Ana and she came to sit by his bedside. "This is the best news ever, thank you, thank you."

Ana blushed under dad's intense gaze. "I brought a couple of books we can read together," Ana said and I could tell she was trying to shift the attention away from herself. She showed him the titles. My dad didn't seem excited by any of them, especially not Jane Eyre.

"How about we read the bible for a little while?" He said motioning to his nightstand. There was a leather bible with golden pages sitting on top of other books.

Ana was surprised at the request but quickly complied. I felt this was the perfect opportunity for me to catch up on a few things so I left the room; I was feeling better now and thought I could finally concentrate on my work.

I was on my way to the way to my office when Elena intercepted me.

"Where's she?"

I found her tone highly irritating. "She's reading to dad," I answered, walking back toward my office with Elena at my heel.

"Oh, Christian...you're not falling for this girl, are you?"

"If I didn't know you any better I would have sworn you're jealous."

"That girl shouldn't be trusted," she went on as though she hadn't heard me. "She was talking to her boyfriend today so if you think you have a chance with her then-"

"Wh-at?" I snapped. "What are you talking about?"

Elena smiled a slow smile. "Her boyfriend Jose. I called the prison and she got to talk to him. You should have seen the look on her face, so much love in her voice," she added fake sweetly, "when she told him, _te quiero mucho,_" over and over again," she shook her head and sighed, "it was really heartbreaking...a sad tale of doomed love."

I stared at Elena in shock for about thirty seconds. Then, at once, I stormed down the hallway to my father's room. There was no way I was going to let this happen; if Anastasia thought she was going to make a fool out of me with another man, she had another thing coming.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

In the next moment, I found myself face to face with Anastasia as she was letting herself out of my father's room, quietly closing the door behind her. She looked so innocent and sweet, it made me even angrier.

"Christian, what's wrong?" She asked, suddenly alarmed by my demeanor.

"Don't...don't you ever talk to him again. Do you understand? You're married to me now and there's absolutely no reason for you to talk to him ever again!"

"I-Elena," I trailed off, overwhelmed.

"No excuses, Anastasia. You do what I say. Capiche?" I said, throwing in some Italian, just because Italian and Spanish are both romance languages.

She looked stricken. "But Elena... she put me on the phone with him!"

I decided to ignore that. I turned around, determined to find Elena. I found her halfway between dad's room and my office. The question that kept burning inside my head was, how did Elena know where to find _that man_? I never shared any information I got from Ana with her. So, how did she know?

"She told me herself... she told me her boyfriend's name, and that he was in jail for political reasons."

I shook my head in disbelief. Ana didn't strike me as the kind of girl that would readily share such a personal of information, but I supposed it could have happened when Elena had her take the pregnancy test. Admittedly, having her take the test had been Elena's idea. Still, I had no objections to it; it seemed like a reasonable precaution.

* * *

….

Ana POV

Christian left me feeling lost and confused. After debating what to do for a long while, I made my way back to the library. I plopped down on the same armchair where I had been reading earlier before Christian came to take me to see his father. By the way, I still can't believe how happy his father was to learn I was expecting. I can't help but feel guilty for participating in such deception.

I was disappointed in myself.

I let Christian down. All he wanted was a wife to make his father happy and how do I pay him back?

I can't go down a road of treachery and infidelity. I got to make a decision right now and stick by it.

I cannot be one of those women involved in a reverse love triangle. I say reverse because in all the _telenovelas_ (soap operas) I've ever seen, the man is the one who has a competing love interest, and NEVER the other way around.

Every female _telenovela_ protagonist I've ever known endured it all with grace. In_ Maria la del Barrio,_ the main character, Maria, suffers in the hand of her enemy who regularly called her names. and then later seduces the man Maria loves. The other woman goes as far as seducing him and getting him drunk and then shows him a FAKE pregnancy test in order to get him to marry her.

I don't want my life to turn out like a soap opera, although I do want to be like Maria, the perfect model of faithfulness. I just want to do the right thing. Plus in the end, everything does work out for Maria even if she had to wait 14 years for her happily ever after.

Life is really confusing right now, the change has been like night and day... I feel alone and afraid. I feel like all of a sudden life has thrown me into this enormous pit, and the way out is climbing out is on my hands and knees but the walls are made of slippery mud.

Everything around me is so new and foreign, I no longer know what to expect or what's expected of me. I'm terrified of making a mistake. This is not normal for me. While it's true that I lived the life of a nomad, there was some predictability in the chaos. I knew who I was and what was expected of me. But not anymore. I don't even know what to think, what to make of things.

For example, when a servant came in to ask whether I wanted to come to the dining room to for lunch or be served in the library, I didn't know what was the right thing to do. Should go and find Christian and ask him? Should I just politely decline? I had no idea.

I wished the woman who came to ask me was Mrs. Jones who had smiled at me warmly. This other woman, on the other hand, was only focused on doing her job and going on to her next task. She stared at me expectantly as she waited for my answer.

"I don't know. What does Mr. Grey usually do?"

The woman looked at me blankly. "Mr. Grey doesn't usually have lunch here on weekdays."

Well, I thought, that certainly doesn't help any, does it?

"I will eat later then," I answered vaguely, not meeting her gaze, feeling her eyes on me, and wishing she would just leave. In all honesty, I was still full from breakfast and eating was the furthest thing from my mind. It occurred to me right then and there, I was immensely lucky to be free from morning sickness thus far. The thought certainly took a load off my mind.

Rather than keep beating myself up, I picked up _Jane Eyre _again. I hadn't gotten very far in the book since the style is quite descriptive and formal and it was written in the Old English of the Victorian era. There are vocabulary words that I didn't understand and so I had to make educated guesses. The storyline was gripping; it's about this orphaned girl who lives with a family that hates her and constantly reminds her of her worthlessness.

I don't know why, but I immediately identify with her plight. I also feel lonely and worthless living in a place where I clearly don't belong.

I don't know how much time has gone by, but I'm now on page 30. There's so much silence around me, it's frightening. There are no city sounds or animal sounds remotely nearby. Not even music playing in the distance.

Needing to stretch my legs, I got up and started exploring on my own. I soon realized this was a big mistake. This place was so big, I could easily get lost, never to be found again.

After about an hour of wandering about, I ran into Mrs. Jones and I breathe I sigh of relief. She was in the room adjacent to the kitchen, dusting the china cabinet.

"Mrs. Grey, were you looking for me?"

I stared at her blankly. For a fraction of a second, I thought she's talking to someone else, but then I realized it is me she was talking to. Good Lord!

"I—I," I stumbled feeling like an idiot but at least Mrs. Jones was not judging me. I feel I can trust her. "I was lost."

Mrs. Jones smiled kindly. "You look a little pale. Come with me, I will get you something to eat," she said. I was so glad to see her taking charge. I was awfully thirsty.

She led me to the kitchen. I sit at the kitchen island and she asked me what I wanted to eat. Soup and salad? Chicken and rice? She also offered to fix me anything else I wanted from my home country, she said she could look up the recipes.

I was touched beyond words that she would be willing to go to all that trouble. I just asked for some water and told her and thanked her. I explained I wasn't hungry.

She shook her head. "You got to eat something though. How about a small snack?" She asked and without waiting for a response, she served me what she referred to as a chicken Caesar salad sprinkled with Parmesan cheese. So this was her version of a snack? To me, it was a complete meal.

Not wanting to offend her, I took a bite. It was absolutely delicious. I ended up eating about half of what she served me and downed two full glasses of water.

"How about Mr. Grey? What is he having for lunch?"

"Mr. Grey already had his lunch served in his office."

I felt deflated that Christian had lunch alone. It seemed quite sad. Why hadn't he called for me? Was he still angry?

"It is time for his snack, though," she said looking at a computer screen to the side of the kitchen island. She then got busy preparing a plate with grapes, crackers and cheese and a spread I couldn't identify by looking at it.

"I will take it to him," I said, longing to feel useful and Mrs. Jones hesitated. She had everything already served in a silver platter. I got up to pick up the tray anyway, already seeing the appreciative smile on Christian's face as though it was happening right now.

Mrs. Jones sighed in resignation and walked with me to Christian's office.

Christian's eyes narrowed when he saw me standing there with the tray. When I glanced back over my shoulder, I found that Mrs. Jones had already disappeared.

"Anastasia, you are not the hired help, please don't stand there like that, waiting," he snapped at me and I immediately moved to place the tray on his desk where he motioned me to put it.

Christian's attention promptly returned to his computer.

"Please don't be mad at me," I said breathlessly, feeling terribly insecure. "I will do whatever you want, including sleeping with you like husband and wife."

I felt the power of his steel gaze on me and I knew at once I had said the wrong thing; the words came out carelessly in one breath as though I was trying to get it over with.

He looked so offended I wanted to slap myself.

"You're offering to sleep with me while you're in love with another man...out of what? Obligation?" He shook his head, disgusted at the thought. "No, Anastasia. I will not sleep with you until you beg me to make love to you...and not a minute sooner."

I stared at him flabbergasted.

"So now, if you don't mind, I need to go back to work," he told me and I continued to stare at him in shock at the sharpness in his tone.

"What's the matter? Are you bored? Need something to do?"

"No, no. I can just go back to reading."

"Perfect. See you later at dinner," he said coldly, his eyes at once returning to the computer screen.

Christian has the right to be mad at me, I thought as I closed the door to his office behind me. He was my husband now and he has the right to expect me to leave my past behind. Why couldn't I just be a dutiful wife and forget the man I left behind?

_Because I love him. _

_Love? Who? _

_Jose, of course. _

_Are you sure? _

_Are you sure you love Jose, romance novel style? Maybe you just love him like a woman loves her best friend and that's all there is to it._ The thought came out of nowhere, leaving me feeling like I wasn't sure of anything anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine

Even though my heart will always be with Jose, my life was here and now. I must put him out of my mind and dedicate my life to my husband.

Yes. That was the right thing to do. Yes. Christian is a good man, he's been very kind to me.

Except I had no idea what I was supposed to do. What was my role in Christian's life, other than serving as his trophy wife (for a lack of a better term) for his father's sake?

_Don't be stupid, Ana. You're his wife. Remember? The least you could do is fulfill your wifely duties..._

I must admit, the idea mortified me, part of me felt I was betraying Jose. But, there was no use thinking about that right now. That part of my life is over, and a new chapter was just starting, and I was incredibly lucky that a man like Christian Grey wanted me.

The ball is back in my court sort of speak, I thought, recalling the kiss we'd shared this morning. Christian had made it quite clear; if something was going to happen between us, it had to be out my own initiative.

Call me romantic if you will, but I much prefer the man to be the pursuer. Hmm. Maybe I will just wait and see what happens.

Will it happen? Yes, of course. As we get to know each other better, nature will take its course. By then he would have forgotten all about me having to beg him, I'm sure. For one, it's a bit ridiculous if you ask me. Everybody knows men have a hard time keeping it in their pants, and that's pretty much a universal truth.

* * *

….

Gail POV

It was time to get dinner started and Mr. Grey had mentioned he wanted to have dinner with his bride in his father's room. So, I went to the library to check on Ana and give her the heads up about dinner plans. I had seen the look in Mr. Grey's face; one look was all it took for me to realize he was in one of his dark moods. Lord, his bride was going to need all the help I could give her. Even though we haven't had the change to talk much, I could tell she was just a sweet gentle soul. I wondered how old she was; my guess she was probably barely out of high school, only 19 or 20 years old.

Ana seemed so genuinely grateful for the information. Right then and there, I decided I would take her under my wing like the daughter I never had. There was a lot this poor girl needed to learn to fit in this family. Further, she was alarmingly vulnerable to Elena Lincoln. For a long time now, that woman has been biding her time like a vulture, patiently circling above waiting for the right time to strike.

I brought in my planner and showed Ana how I planned for meals and other household tasks. The sweet child asked me if there was something she could do to help around the house. I blinked in disbelief. I told her she was the lady of the house and she wouldn't be expected to do anything household related except maybe planning the menu and re-decorating.

I pointed out a few recipes that were color-coded according to Christian's preferences.

"I would like to come in when you're cooking and learn how to cook these meals myself," she said with a sparkle in her eyes, and I said to myself, who am I to tell her we can't cook together if this is what she wants to do?

* * *

Christian POV

A few hours later, I was in my father's room when Ana came in, ahead of Mrs. Jones who was carrying the tray with our dinner. She set the tray squarely on the small round table located by the window and disappeared.

Dad's eyes brightened when Ana came in. He was sitting up in his bed and his nurse brought him a bowl of soup and pudding so he could join us.

I pulled the chair for Ana and she smiled at me sweetly. I reciprocated her smile, wanting her to see I was no longer upset at her. In truth, I shouldn't have been so angry at her for talking to that man on the phone; she hadn't purposely called him herself. It was ridiculous. Maybe it was love making me act like a fool.

I sat at the table across from Ana and placed the cloth napkin across my lap. Ana followed suit.

"Christian, would you like to say grace?" Dad asked me.

I was dumbfounded by such a request. I hadn't prayed in years; as a matter of fact, we never prayed much as a family. It was a little disconcerting watching dad become so spiritual, it was so unlike the father I knew.

Still, I bowed my head and said a short prayer that sounded lame to my own ears.

We talked while we ate. Ana entertained us for a little while with stories about her home country. Dad was very interested and asked a few well-thought-out political questions. Ana answers his questions to the best of her ability and once again I marveled at how fluent her English was.

"Can I ask you something? she asked me after dad had fallen asleep.

"Shoot," I said but then I realized she didn't understand what I meant. "Go ahead, tell me."

"It's about your sister. Did you say you were still trying to find her?"

"Yeah," I said. "I've been trying to find her for months," I went on looking over at my father lying in bed. He was sound asleep and his breathing was a little labored which worried me. "At this point, I don't think I'll find her in time for dad to meet with her." In all honesty, it was probably for the best. Who knows? Even if I did find her, there were no guarantees as to what her reaction would be. She may be resentful of dad giving her up for adoption and refuse to see him. Judging by Ana's next question, something in my expression must have betrayed my thoughts.

"But you do want to find her, right? She's family, right?"

What can I say? It's more complicated than that. "Not exactly. She's not related to me by blood...and besides, in reality, she's a stranger. I don't think of her as a sister. She's my father's daughter and that's it."

Ana seemed a little shocked at my response.

"Anyway, about that. Let's talk about us," I said looking intently into her eyes. "How was your day?"

She gave me a shy smile. "It was fine, I got to read."

"Are you enjoying Jane Eyre?"

"Yes. I find the main character and I had a lot in common."

I smiled at her. I could see why she would find Jane relatable. "I sure hope you don't see me as me having anything in common with John Reed."

Ana seemed to find the idea outrageous. "Of course not!" She was quiet for a moment. "Have you read this book before?"

"You didn't peg me for liking that type of book?" I asked and she raised a questioning brow. "Yeah, I suppose not many guys would voluntarily read such a lengthy novel...it was in my high school required reading list. A friend of mine was reading it so I thought we could study together.

Ana nodded. "So how was your day working on the computer?"

"I had trouble concentrating, thinking about dad. I thought I could work while he slept and then be available when he was awake but it didn't work out too well," I let out a deep sigh. "I want to be there for him, you know what I mean?"

"Yes," she paused, her eyes full of sympathy. "I think you want to do it all. Maybe too much pressure?"

I thought that was a kind thing to say. I felt as though she genuinely cared about me. But how could she, if she barely knew me? Then I thought of Jose and how she cared for him by her own admission and then later by what Elena said; it had been an upsetting discovery. Just the thought of Ana and another man was enough to make my blood boil.

This was all new to me; I've never been jealous of anyone in my entire life as I am of this pathetic boyfriend of hers. Ana was the first woman I cared about romantically. All the other women I've shared my bed with had been submissives brought to me by Elena. They'd meant nothing to me, absolutely nothing to me.

Seriously, I never thought I would ever fall in love with a woman who wasn't in the lifestyle. I viewed at least one hundred videos before I found the one woman that changed it all. From the first moment I set eyes on her and heard her voice, it was as if, all of a sudden, my heart and soul had been swept into one of those love songs you hear on the radio, whose corny lyrics invariably make you want to throw up.

"Are you going to eat?" I asked her, observing that she'd barely touched her food. We were having filet mignon with vegetables.

"I ate a lot for lunch."

I shook my head and made a mental note to get her to eat more. She was way too thin. Other than that, she was perfect.

I wondered though what this woman, whom I adored, would think of me if she ever found out about my lifestyle, a lifestyle I had no intention of bringing her into. I wanted a new life with her, a chance to start anew and put the past behind me once and for all.

"Would you at least eat some more? Please?" I asked and her gaze softened. It was my way of making amends, of apologizing to her for how I treated her earlier. Part of me wanted to say I was sorry but the words choked in my throat.

Author's note^

Someone asked about the country Ana is from. It's a Spanish speaking country, not necessary to be more specific.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter ten

"I don't know, I can't eat anymore. Maybe it's the pregnancy?" Ana said with an apologetic expression and I could almost kick myself for not thinking of this sooner. It hadn't occurred to me that Anastasia could be suffering from morning sickness.

I pulled out my phone, intending to call my doctor who was always ready to make house calls. "I think it's time you saw a doctor."

Ana seemed appalled at this. "Oh, no. I'm not sick. It's not that bad," she bit her lip and I frowned.

"Don't bite your lip," I admonished her. I can't believe I'm practically drooling over her just because her teeth are pressing into her lips!

"It's just a check-up. I don't think there will be any needles involved if that's what you're worried about," I said, phone in hand, pausing in mid-air.

Ana blushed a little under my intense gaze. "Is it a man or a woman?"

I smiled, understanding. "Dr. Smith is a male doctor but if you feel more comfortable with a female, that can be easily arranged."

"I went to see a doctor before I boarded the plane. He checked my heart, gave me a TB test and two shots. Doesn't that qualify for a check-up?" She asked, her voice a little shaky.

The check-up she was referring to was far from a complete physical. Given her background, I had the hunch Ana had never had a physical before with labs and the works.

"I'm afraid that's not enough," I said firmly. I then dialed Dr. Smith who then told me he had several candidates in mind. He would send their resumes first thing tomorrow morning so I could look them over and set up interviews, and start the selection process.

...

Time flew by. We talked about politics; she was surprisingly well informed about current events, and good background knowledge in world history; I hadn't expected that. She went on to tell me that when she was in school she was a teacher's pet and often the teachers rewarded her with textbooks to take home from the previous school year. I didn't think much of that until she clarified that in her home country, students were not allowed to take their textbooks outside of the classroom for any reason. Some students could afford to purchase the books but she wasn't one of them. I was shocked to hear that she couldn't always attend school on a regular basis and that somehow, she never fell behind as she was determined to educate herself at home.

Halfway through dessert, Ana started yawning as she toyed with her creme brulee. She became so drowsy, she was a little unsteady on her feet as she rose from the table, so I lifted her in my arms, bridal style and carried her all the way to our room. She giggled a little on the way there. I then deposited her in bed and pecked her lips. She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

I stood there watching her sleep, wondering if she would ever find me worthy of her love.

_I considered undressing her so she could be more comfortable, but then I knew I wouldn't be able to contain the beast in me. _

She was a beauty and I was the beast.

Like the beast, I'm a loner and a little rough around the edges. I've never even had a girlfriend.

_I don't know even what it's like to go out on a date or how to woo a woman. _

_I'd never thought I would ever need any of those skills._

The reason was simple.

_Love was for fools. _

_BESIDES, SHE WILL NEVER LOVE YOU_

_SHE LOVES HIM!_

I slid in bed beside her and did my best to brush the infuriating thought aside, telling myself there was still hope. I reminded myself of the way she had returned my kiss earlier in the day. I tossed and turned for a while, and fantasized about her all night, as I drifted in and out of sleep.

In my dreams, I saw her in her bra and underwear and the perfect submissive position. In other dreams, she lay in various erotic positions and begged me to let her have an orgasm. I lifted my flogger and dangled the ends across her shoulders, tickling her bare breasts. The tips hardened to such sharp points I wanted to clamp them. With a gentle flick, I teased her along her labia. I repeated the movement until she sighed with pleasure. No pain, just pleasure. I smiled at the way she looked at me, lust gripping her. That's the way I wanted her, it had taken forever to her to this point, but at last, the moment had come.

Upon awakening, such dreams troubled me a little since I had wanted a break with the past.

_Well, Grey. Just because you will no longer be practicing BDMS doesn't mean you can't have a little fun._

In the early light of the morning sun, I turned my head to my side. She was still asleep. I figured she was still yet lagged. In reality, she hadn't slept all that much since her plane landed. It was bound to catch up with her somehow.

I pressed the call button on the intercom and asked Gail if she could bring us a tray for breakfast and leave it outside the door. I was planning on retrieving it after I got out of the shower.

When I came out of the shower a few minutes later, she's still sleeping. I contemplated waking her, even murmured her name softly, "Anastasia." She didn't even stir.

I had a meeting this morning and didn't want her to wake up all alone. Maybe I should just write her a short note. I promptly retrieved pen and paper. I chewed on the end of the pencil and struggled with the wording, like a clueless middle schooler.

_Oh, c'mon, Grey. It's a note, not a fucking love letter! _

I brought the breakfast tray inside the room and placed it on a big round table next to the wall. I ate a piece of toast and a few bacon slices while I thought about what to write.

_Dear Anastasia: I hope you slept well. Enjoy your breakfast. Feel free to text me anytime of the day. I left your cell phone charged up by your nightstand. _

Now I needed the closing statement.

_Love, Christian_

No, no, scratch that.

_Laters, Christian_

* * *

I sat behind my desk at work, unable to concentrate. My thoughts alternated between my dad and Anastasia. Even though dad's doctor had assured me he was doing better this morning, I couldn't shake the feeling that my father could die any minute now and that perhaps I should be home. The thing was, part of me really wanted to be there when the moment came, and part of me wanted to run away to the other end of the world.

I busied myself with trying to locate Anastasia's family. Not an easy task. Ana's hometown was a tiny blip on a map. From what I gathered from the conversation we had last night in dad's room, I learned that there were rural areas in her home country that did not enjoy many of our modern conveniences. Out in the country, she'd held a number of odd jobs. They didn't stay in one place for long. Every few months, they traveled to the nearest city so that her mom get psychological counseling at the hospital. While in the city, she'd worked the cash register at a bakery. That was the last job she'd held prior to applying with the agency that brought us together. This last part she'd mumbled quietly for my ears only while dad's nurse took his vitals.

Perhaps, the best thing was to wait for Ana's mother to make a withdrawal from her bank account. I've set it up so that the bank manager delivers a letter from me expressing my desire for her and her daughter to come and live with us. All her mother would need to do was to accept the offer which will then allow me to petition for their immigration visas to be approved.

…..

It was past five in the afternoon and I was looking forward to going home and spending time with Anastasia. I was thinking maybe we could still get away for a little while. We could go out to dinner or something (depending on how dad was feeling). She had arrived home directly from the airport and had seen very little of the city of Seattle.

I straightened the papers on my desk and shut down the computer. Right then, the intercom buzzed.

"Someone is here to see you, Mr. Grey."

"Who is it, Andrea?"

"It's a young lady from Esclava, sir."

FUCK!

My first thought was that it was Leila, she was first in command at the salon after Elena. Andrea wouldn't know her since she'd never been to my office before.

My contract with Leila had ended three months ago, our contract had specifically stated no contact after its termination. She had been my last submissive. I never got anyone else to replace her. It was simple and complicated at the same time. Leila became a true nuisance, demanding and expecting more from our relationship that had been agreed upon. I had no emotional connection with Leila and she kept insisting we needed it in order to have a healthy BDMS relationship. I was too fucked up, she said. I was furious.

I decided I was done with that. I didn't want to be in that type of situation again with a submissive. I was turning my life around. I was going to prove Leila wrong; I was perfectly capable of developing an emotional connection with a woman, except it would not be with a woman like her.

Over time, I started thinking about what it would be like to have a conventional relationship with a woman.

When I first shared my intentions with Elena, she had laughed; she'd said I would never be able to settle vanilla. I shrugged her off. I was going to prove her wrong too.

Around that time, Dad's health had taken a turn for the worse and he kept talking about having grandchildren. At first, the idea of settling down was outrageous. But then, the idea started growing on me. Having a wife was respectable in dad's eyes and I wanted very much for dad to approve of me. As to having children, in all honesty, I hadn't give it much thought. The idea didn't excite me but it didn't scare me off either. I didn't see myself as an active participant in any child's life. I'd read somewhere that children were meant to be seen but not be heard up until about age 15, the age when logic and reasoning start to fully develop. I liked this philosophy, I was raised this way by Carrick who ruled with an iron hand and the expectation of absolute obedience. Often, Gail would try to undo the damage by spoiling me rotten and covering my tracks during my tumultuous teenage years.

I loved my father and understood why it was so important for him to see me settle down. I was my father's only son and it made sense that I have children to carry on our family's legacy. I was fine with that.

Soon, I started browsing dating sites, looking for the ideal woman. Not that I believed in soul mates or anything corny like that, but I sure wanted to find the perfect woman to become my wife. The problem was that these sites required too much disclosure of personal information and obviously, I couldn't get everyone that looked at my profile to sign an NA.

At last, I ran across an agency for men who were looking for a traditional old fashioned relationship with women living outside the United States. The agency was quite accommodating and willing to sign an NA and keep everything confidential. My lawyers went over everything and forked quite a bit of money to make sure everything panned out well. Even though the agency's headquarters were here in the US, it was still a risk since they still had personnel in other countries whose actions were more difficult to monitor. And to think, I almost gave up on the whole idea.

And then I saw her. Anastasia. Never in my entire life had a felt such an obsession with another human being. It happened instantaneously. And now, every time I close my eyes, I feel her hot mouth on mine. That kiss we shared was otherworldly, leaving me disoriented every time I think about it. It made me wonder what it would like to have her all hot and bothered in my bed. I have the feeling it would be like she was the axis and I the wheel, and my job was to watch her sitting majestically at the center, while I helplessly spun all around her.

"What's her name?" I asked in a sharp tone.

"Ms. Jane Brooks."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Not Leila.

"Send her in," I grumbled.

Moments later, a petite brunette stood in front of me, assuming a submissive position.

I'm doubly pissed. First, Elena has sent a submissive to my place of employment, and secondly, she has sent her without my consent!

_I'm a married man now!_

Elena had crossed the line this time; there was no other way to interpret her actions but as a threat to my marriage to Anastasia.

"Look at me," I snapped at her and she looks up at me. "Tell me why you're here."

"Ms. Lincoln has sent me to please you, sir."

That was all the confirmation I needed. Elena had become unreliable and unpredictable. First, she'd made the call to Ana's ex and now, she had taken the liberty to send a submissive without checking with me first. This was fucking unacceptable, no one was going to mess with me; no one had the right to mess with my perfectly organized life, thank you very much! Not even Elena who had saved me from a path of self-destruction years ago. I picked up the phone, ready to read her the riot act.

Author's note:

I'm completely blown away by the number of favorites and follows for the last chapter! I counted 49 follows, amazing for just one chapter.

What made you decide to follow this story? Was it learning about Christian's intentions with Ana or something else?


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter eleven

Ana POV

"Hi, honey, how was your day?" Christian poked his head through the door. I was in the library reading the newspaper. His eyes nodded appreciatively; I was wearing a gorgeous evening wear dress that Mrs. Jones had helped me select from the master closet. The dress was a soft pink, the sleeves were long and laced, and it fell right below the knee. She said it hugged my figure in all the right places. My heart leaped with joy; I had waited all day for him to come home so that I could wear the dress for him and now he was here.

"You look gorgeous."

He pecked my lips lightly, leaving me drunk with his nearness. I welcomed the gesture, it made me feel like ours was a regular marriage.

"It was good," I said with a smile, putting the paper aside. Being able to read every section from cover to cover had given me great pleasure. Back home, I read at least one section every day. I went to great lengths to be informed even if I had to dig them out of trashcans or follow people around until they were ready to toss it. I tried not to miss a single issue; this was an important daily ritual for me. Somehow, being informed of the world's events helped me in tough times. Even though there was often misery around me, it helped to look beyond my current circumstances and look at the bigger picture. No matter what was going on around me, I was not worthless, I was a human being, a citizen of the world.

I gazed at this beautiful man, my husband. I still couldn't believe how fate had brought us together. What if I'd never seen the ad in our local newspaper? Me answering that ad had been the fork in the road that changed my life forever in ways I could have never imagined.

"Mrs. Jones kindly sent someone to get the newspaper for me. I also spent the day cooking with her. She's so kind...we had a good day, we made clam chowder soup and lasagna for dinner," I said with a smile and he nodded. I was looking forward to us having dinner together. I couldn't wait to see his reaction as this was one of his favorite dishes. "How was your day?"

….

Christian POV

The day dragged and it seemed like I had accomplished little all day. I hadn't even been able to locate Ana's family. I sighed plopping down in the armchair next to hers. Something in my expression betrayed my frustration.

"Is everything alright?"

"It was a long day," I said. I had just gotten off the phone with Elena. She'd tried sweet-talking me but I didn't let her get a word in edgewise; I told her in no uncertain terms that she wasn't welcome in my home anymore unless I saw evidence that she'd changed her tune. But of course, there was no need for me to share any of this. "I saw my father a few minutes ago. He's doing a lot better."

"I know," Ana smiled brightly. "Today I read an entire book of the bible to him and he listened without falling asleep!"

We locked eyes, and for a moment I couldn't think of anything but how gorgeous her eyes were. I was happy; I was home with the most stunning woman I'd ever met (both inside and out) and dad was hopefully on the mend. I was holding out for a miracle, but I didn't dare say it out loud lest I jinx it.

"I feel like celebrating," I told her. "Would you like to go out to dinner with me?"

Her smile faded a little. "Oh. I think your father wants us to have dinner with him again, last night he really enjoyed it."

"Of course," I said, thinking that was really kind of her to think of him. I was being selfish, I know, but I longed to spend time alone with her. I stared into her eyes and she blushed, I felt as if I had to drink her in to sustain me for the next time we were apart.

Later

It was a warm night with only a gentle breeze. We had a nice three-course dinner out in the balcony with my father sitting at the table with us which sort of normalized his condition. The nurse was constantly nearby fussing with his IV but Ana didn't seem to mind the intrusion at all.

"This is delicious," I said, taking the first bite of my lasagna. It was just how I liked it, but better.

"I followed Mrs. Jones' recipe, and I added an secret ingredient of my own," she said with a tiny wink.

I was flattered that she'd cooked for me and went to all the trouble. I winked back at her and she blushed under my intense gaze.

Ana's appetite improved dramatically, she ate more than half the food on her plate. When I commented on it, she looked at me hopefully. She was hoping she wouldn't need to visit the doctor. I told her in no uncertain terms that she had an appointment tomorrow morning with the female doctor I hired. I reassured her. Dr. Greene was an outstanding doctor, she had two medical degrees; her specialties were internal medicine and obstetrics. From our zoom meeting earlier in the day, she seemed warm, caring, and had an excellent bedside manner.

Dad got really tired after the third course was served and the nurse had to take him back to bed. He was sad to go and held out his hand to Ana. She squeezed his hand lovingly in response. Her genuine kindness touched me deeply.

"Tell me more about you," Ana said as I reached for a glass of red wine. "How were you as a little boy?"

"I hope Gail didn't fill your head with embarrassing stories about me."

Ana smiled sweetly.

"Well, what can I say? I was a bit of a handful, you know. I got into trouble more than once but Gail always saved me before dad found out, " I smiled at the memories. Ana seemed to be hanging onto my every word which encouraged me to keep going. "I was into conducting what I called scientific experiments which nearly always turned bad," I chuckled and drained my glass. "Anyway... I had too much energy and not enough activities to keep me occupied. My behavior didn't get any better as I got to be a teenager. I hated dad's rules, things had to be done his way and his way only. I started drinking, skipping school, and hanging out with the wrong crowd. I got expelled from school, dad threatened with military school." I hesitated, thinking of Elena but I didn't want to bring up her name in this conversation. "A friend suggested all I needed was some hard labor to rein me in. I did yard work every day for a couple of years."

Ana raised her brows. I knew what she was thinking. My upbringing had been so drastically different from hers. "And did it work?"

"It did. I dropped my friends and started doing well in school."

"I hope you got new friends?"

"Not really, I've never had a lot of friends by choice. I found most kids my age stupid and incredibly boring. I had nothing in common with them."

"You must have been so lonely," she paused regarding me with compassion. "You were in this huge house by yourself?"

"I was fine," I said. I didn't want her pity.

"Still, it must have been hard growing up without a mother or siblings."

I shrugged. "Overall, I had a happy childhood. No major traumas except for my mother never coming home after giving birth to my sister."

"That must have been horrible for you, "Ana's expression turned from sympathetic to curious. "How old were you exactly when you were adopted? "

"I had just turned four."

"Do you remember your birth mother? What about your father?"

"I only have a few memories of my birth mother. My father's name was not even listed on my birth certificate. She'd died at the hospital from a drug overdose. I rode in the ambulance along with her. Grace was the attending physician at the time, I clung to her side and she took me under her wings. She was literally my savior. I became very attached to her, didn't want to leave her side. She always had to reassure me that she would be back whenever she left the house," I told her, my voice breaking a little. Even after all this time, the memory still had the power to affect me.

Ana covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a gasp. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I can only imagine how you felt when she never returned," she shook her head, sadly.

"It was," I said. It suddenly struck me that I would be devastated if Ana ever abandoned me like the other two women in my life. It was a startling discovery. I shook my head to get rid of such thoughts. The last thing I needed right now was to go down a gloomy path.

"Enough about me, how about you?" I prompted her. I was showing interest in her as an individual. While I waited for my bride's visa to get approved, I did my homework. I skimmed through a couple of books on relationships, hoping to gain some insight. One of them, _The man's guide to women,_ had practical suggestions for conquering a woman's heart. If there was one thing I knew for sure was that Spanish speaking girls like her wanted to be courted the old fashioned way with hearts, flowers, and _serenatas._ I was prepared to romance Anastasia with a band of mariachis if I had to, anything to win her over beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"Tell me about your high school graduation?" I asked her casually. The next question erupted rather suddenly from the dark corners of my mind, and it popped right out before she had the chance to answer the first question. "Who was the lucky bastard that danced with you at your high school prom?"

Ana looked at me with a sad expression and I furrowed my brow. I didn't know what made me ask such a question. It was morbid, I know, but I wanted her to tell me more about HIM, the lowlife that had gotten her pregnant. I wanted her to tell me details about him, about their life together.

I couldn't help it; it was like passing by a fatal car wreck, you don't want to look, you know it's gonna be gruesome and heart-wrenching, and yet you're glued to the scene, unable to peel your eyes away.

**Call me selfish if you want, but more than anything I wanted Anastasia to love me for me. I wanted her, ALL of her.**

**I wanted her body, her mind, and soul, nothing less than that would satisfy me. No sloppy seconds for me. No matter how long it took, I was willing to wait until I got the complete package deal. **

"I didn't have a prom," she told me. It wasn't until later that I realized how sensitive the question was and it had nothing to do with her ex.

Ana POV

I'd seen movies like _Grease_ and _Back to the Future_ where the prom played an important role in a person's life. But this was an American tradition that didn't apply to other countries like mine. Sure, I'd been to a couple of dances at school organized by one of my teachers but it only included students from my same class.

"We didn't have a prom."

"No school dances? Not even at your high school graduation?"

I hung my head in shame. "I never graduated from high school," I said and Christian's eyes widened.

I hated the idea of him thinking less of me but I figured I better be honest. It was bound to come up again sooner or later. "My final year of high school was difficult. I had to miss school. I was babysitting my neighbor's kids and staying home with mom," I mumbled. This was only partly true. The real reason I couldn't finish school was that it wasn't safe. There were a few perverts in our neighborhood and I avoided going out alone. One of them kept stalking me and I was afraid it was a matter of time before he dragged me onto a bush and raped me. That was the year Jose and I got together. When he learned about the one pervert that was harassing me, he convinced me to wait until the following year to try to take the final exams I missed, he said he would take care of me. Except that, as it turned out, what he made was barely enough to sustain us, let alone my mother and sister.

"If you only need a class or two, you can enroll in a program and get your diploma," he said like it was no big deal which surprised me.

"I wanted to go back to school and get my diploma at the same school that had my records but life got complicated after that especially because we didn't have stability. Later, I had trouble finding work as no one wanted to hire someone without a high school diploma," I told him, carefully avoiding bringing up Jose into this conversation. Judging by his reaction regarding me talking to Jose on the phone, I had every reason to suspect any passing comment I made regarding Jose would be blown out of proportion.

"Still, you got hired at the bakery?" Christian prompted with a slight tilt of his head. So he'd been paying attention, I realized.

I nodded and once again lowered my head in shame at what I had to do to get that job.

In an act of desperation, Jose helped me make a fake document. We made a perfect copy of his high school diploma, erased his name and then substituted mine. Then we made another copy. My employer never found out.

I met his gaze briefly. I wondered what Christian would say if he knew I'd committed fraud. After a moment, I stood to stand against the balcony rail, gazing out thoughtfully toward the dark horizon. Far above the moon sailed high, pouring its light over the city.

The next thing I knew, the sound of music filled the air. I assumed it was coming from his digital device.

_Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song_  
_When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful_  
_I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight_

...

Christian POV

I went to close the balcony door and drew the curtains for privacy. When I turned around, Ana was facing me, smiling softly.

"May I have this dance?"

She was in my arms before I could even finish my request. We slow danced under the stars, gazing into each other's eyes. I traced the outline of her lips with my index finger and she stood on her tippy toes to wrap her arms around my neck. I lowered my head until my lips almost touched hers and lingered there for the longest time. And then I kissed her.

Ana POV

The moment his lips touched mine, I became completely caught up in the sensations this kiss was creating, tingles spreading throughout my entire body. I lost all sense of rational thought and clung to him like a life raft, tangling my hands in his hair. As the kiss deepened, I couldn't get enough of him, which is why it came to such a shock when he tore his lips away from mine, having no clue at what I've done to deserve such cruel and unusual punishment.

Christian POV

I lifted my head and held Ana at arm's length. "I'm afraid my love, we're going to need to sleep in separate rooms tonight," I said, surprising her. Again, the last thing I wanted was for her to sleep with me while longing for someone else. I had to be certain, ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN it was me she wanted and not HIM.

NOTE:

In this story, **Christian was never abused in the same way as in the books, the most he suffered was mild neglect**. I figured him losing both of his mothers is tragic enough.

Thanks to ( Nani?) for recommending this story on FB.

I created a new FB account: Camelitajones (capital C, lowercase j)

Happy Thanksgiving!


	12. Chapter 12

**NOTE:**

**I just finished revamping the first five chapters, I took out the part where it said Ana had martial arts training and added other details. If you decide to re-read, feedback appreciated. **It was a lot of work rewriting them, it took me many hours since they were mostly written in third person and I wanted them to match the rest of the chapters. Even though I revised them three times each, the pronoun switching was tricky, and there might still be some mistakes. Overall, I believe the story reads better :)

* * *

Chapter twelve

Ana POV

God, no! The last thing I wanted was to sleep alone. I've never slept in a room alone in my entire life. I always slept next to my sister Maria. I opened my mouth to protest but then the phone rang at that exact moment.

I immediately assumed it was his phone ringing. But no, it was the cell phone Christian had gifted me the one making all that racket. It startled me since it was the first time it rang. I had made it a habit of carrying it with me in case Christian needed to get hold of me. But my experience with cell phones was limited; this was the first mobile phone I'd ever owned. So far, I'd only received a couple of texts from Christian to tell me around what time I could expect him home. Back home, Jose carried a cell phone but he didn't use it to surf the internet. Half the time Jose had been frustrated trying to get a signal, it seemed like a huge hassle.

Christian was looking at me with a big question mark on his face. We were both wondering who could be calling me, especially at this hour. He let it ring one more time before he snatched the phone from my hand and answered it.

"Hello?"

Unbelievingly, Jose's voice came in loud and clear through the speakers.

JOSE: Hola, puedo hablar con Ana? (May I speak to Ana?)

"This is him, isn't it? The asshole that got you pregnant?" Christian hissed and I nodded. In the next moment, his face contoured into a murderous rage, and I braced myself for the worst.

CHRISTIAN: How dare you call her? She doesn't want to talk to you.

"Jose!" I blurted out and Christian glared at me.

"_No me llames mas por favor!_ ( Please don't call me anymore!)

"No, Jose. _Tu y yo hemos terminado para siempre, soy una mujer casada_." ( You and I are over for good, I'm a married woman now.)

JOSE: Ana, _yo tengo derecho a saber de ti y de nuestro hijo_ ( I have the right to know about you and our child.)

CHRISTIAN: Jose, this is Ana's husband. Don't you ever call here again, do you understand? Ana is happy with me!" Christian yelled at Jose. His voice was so loud it startled me. He then turned to me and demanded: "Tell him!"

I translated what he said word per word, my heart was breaking. In the next moment, Christian then grabbed the phone and flung it out the balcony. Instinctively, I retreated for him in fear that I would be the next object of his anger. Instead, he looked at me with steely but wounded eyes.

"I would never hurt you, Anastasia," he took my face in his hands and held my gaze until my breathing normalized and I was no longer scared. I marveled at this power Christian seemed to have over me. It was as if he was and hypnotist and me his willing subject. All I wanted to do was please him. "Tell me you understand."

I nodded and he seemed satisfied. Together we left the balcony, tiptoed past Mr. Carrick's sleeping form and I closed the door behind us. Christian kept walking ahead of me. Not knowing what else to do, I followed him. He was understandably jealous of Jose, and I felt responsible for this. I hoped with all my heart that Christian would get over this. Jealousy was the green-eyed monster could eat a person up, it could be hugely destructive. I'd seen it again and again in the people that had weaved in and out of my life.

...

Christian POV

I made a beeline to the mini-bar in my study and examined the bottles. Finding none to my liking, I crouched down to the bottom shelf and pulled out of the mini-refrigerator a bottle of scotch and poured myself a strong dose and finally added three ice cubes. After draining the large glass, I poured myself another.

I wanted Anastasia more than anything in the world but if I was going to make sure Anastasia fell in love with me before bedding her, I needed to be really patient and patience was not exactly one of my virtues. I didn't know how long I stood there before I heard her lovely voice.

"Christian?"

I turned around slowly. Ana was standing at the threshold, looking at me, uncertainty in her eyes.

I almost offered her a drink and then I remembered she was pregnant. That SOB had her before me; the thought made me irrationally angry all over again.

"I'm tired, I need to go to bed-"

"Tell me more about him," I suddenly interrupted her, " this ex-boyfriend of yours that you claim to love. What does he have that I don't?"

Ana took a step back, stunned. "I-I don't know what to say-"

"How is he in bed?" I demanded, raising my voice. "Were you thinking of him when you were kissing me?"

It was a twisted question, I know, but were so many questions I wanted to ask. How was I supposed to compete against this man when I had zero information about him? I was accustomed to being the winner in every battle I'd ever participated in, and this was the first time I'd felt at a disadvantage, and it was killing me.

My line of questioning was scaring her but I didn't care. I desperately needed an answer to my questions. She made a motion to retreat further but I prevented her by grabbing her arm.

"Look at me, Anastasia," I lifted her chin and made her look into my eyes. "Answer me!" I'd never felt so freaking vulnerable in my life than at this moment. It freaked the heck out of me. I was making a fool of myself and yet, I couldn't help it.

She shook her head. "You are drunk," she murmured, her voice shaking.

"No, no," I shook my head, I wasn't drunk. I handled liquor well, somehow I always managed to keep a clear head. "Just answer the questions, dammit!"

All of a sudden, she started crying, and that made me relax my grip on her arm. "Ana," I said her name softly this time. Gently, I guided her to sit with me on the couch and she seemed to relax a little. "I just want to hear the details of your life with him. That's all I need," I managed to say in a calmer tone of voice.

...

Ana POV

I hated seeing Christian drunk. In my life, I'd dealt with my share of drunks, thank you, very much. Anyway, it occurred to me that if I shared everything Christian wanted to know, it would calm him down enough to see that Jose was not a threat to him. He was thousands of miles away, across the ocean.

I took a deep breath and gazed into his gray orbs before I spoke. "I didn't know he was going to call."

"You gave him your number!" He said in a low voice.

I bit my lip and he furrowed his brow. "I don't think, I didn't give it to him." It was the truth, I felt good, I had nothing to hide.

...

Christian POV

I couldn't believe it, Elena was again messing with my life. I made a mental note to have Taylor double security and block her calls. If she ever so much tried to set foot in this house or contact me or Anastasia she was going to be sorry.

"Okay, now tell me. Was he good to you?"

She took a deep breath before answering. "Not as good as you."

Smart answer. I couldn't help but smile at her. No wonder I was crazy about her. She was both honest and smart.

The next question caught her completely off-guard.

"So...what does he have that I don't have?"

Her smile faded. She looked stricken. "Please, Christian, I don't know how to answer that..."

She looked so vulnerable and lost, I took pity on her, and dropped the question. I followed up with a different question. This was the question that kept popping in my head like a broken record and that I desperately needed an answer to, "how is he in bed?"

She blushed crimson red. "Sometimes...he wasn't good to me," she said, her eyes downcast.

"What? What did he do to you?" I asked, suspecting the worst. "Did he hurt you?"

At first, she didn't answer but her eyes said it all. No wonder she'd been terrified I was going to hit her earlier when I threw the phone off the balcony.

"He...got jealous sometimes," she murmured, barely meeting my gaze, ashamed. "

"Did he hit you?"

She nodded, not meeting my gaze. "Maybe once or twice," she admitted reluctantly.

The bastard! Suddenly, I felt vastly superior to this SOB. I would NEVER treat a woman like that.

I lifted her chin and she met my gaze, a little uncertain. Right then, I wanted to reassure her that I was a much better man than that creep she'd left behind. "Ana, I will never, ever hurt you. I would rather cut my arm off first. Do you believe me?"

...

Ana POV

I breathed a sigh of relief. Christian was back to being sweet and gentle with me, and I felt all was well with the world. I promised myself not to do anything that would make him upset again. I sure hoped Jose didn't try to call me again. Although now that Christian had destroyed the phone, it was less likely to happen.

Christian walked me to the master bedroom, made sure I had everything I needed and waited for me to get out of the bathroom in my nightgown. It was an electric blue baby doll that hung just above my knees.

After I came out of the bathroom, he tucked me in bed, and kissed my forehead, and repeated his intentions of sleeping in the adjacent room, like a true gentleman."

But I..." I weakly protested, "I don't want you to go," I murmured quietly but he was already half-way across the threshold.

I had trouble sleeping after Christian left. My mind was awake but my body was dead tired. I considered following him into the other room and climbing in bed with him but I was so incredibly tired I couldn't move a muscle.

...

Christian POV

The next morning I woke up with a mild hangover. Gail sent two cups of black coffee to my room with one of the maids. The coffee helped sober me up. I visited dad in his room and was reassured by the nurse that dad had a good night. By the time I came downstairs to the breakfast room, I was in a really good mood.

Ana was already at the table waiting for me sipping a cup of orange juice. She'd been looking out the windows to the side of the breakfast nook, watching the birds in the garden.

"Good morning," I said taking a seat beside her.

"It's a beautiful morning indeed," Ana smiled at me. "This is my favorite room in the house. I love the view... a lot."

"I thought the library was your favorite room," I smirked at her.

"Yes, it is. I guess I have two favorite rooms," she smiled sheepishly. "I think I will read here from now on."

I smiled back at her, looking into those gorgeous blue eyes of her. So pure and forgiving. I felt a pang of regret about the way I acted last night.

"Ana, about last night, it was not my intention to frighten you," I said. It was the closest thing to an apology. I sincerely hoped it would be enough. She really had no idea how much power she had over me.

Ana smiled her most forgiving smile yet. "It's okay," she murmured.

Gail made us a nice breakfast. She even stayed and visited with us for a little while. We talked about the birds in the garden. Gail told Ana that there were several books in the library about bird watching if she was interested in bird watching as a hobby. Ana nodded sweetly.

...

ANA POV

After breakfast, Christian told me he was working in the home office today but not until after my doctor's appointment. I stiffened. I hated doctors, I didn't trust them, in my experience, they were nearly always bearers of bad news.

Christian put his arm around me protectively. I snuggled up to him and lifted my lips for a kiss. Much to my disappointment, Christian's kiss was chaste and much too brief. Ugh. This Adonis of a man was truly the death of me. His mercurial ways co-existed happily with his softer side, the combination was intriguing, beyond thrilling.

As it was, I was getting the message loud and clear. Christian would be good to me as long as I didn't make him jealous. Other than that, he was going to make an exceptionally good husband.

When the doctor arrived later that afternoon, Christian was by my side and he helped me answer the doctor's questions about my medical history. There were so many confusing questions, even though the reverse side of the questionnaire was in Spanish, but I've never had to fill out this type of questionnaire before. I put an X on the box that asked about yellow fever.

When I was eight years old, I came down with yellow fever. I was so sick writhing in bed, shivering and vomiting. when the fever finally broke, I weighed about ten pounds less than before and my skin was all yellow. Mom had joked that my forehead had been so hot it almost burned her hand when she touched it.

"A fever that high can boil your brain and cause permanent brain damage," she told me after I had recovered. "So don't tell anyone you had it If you do, you might have trouble catching a husband.

Also, make sure you don't give him your cherry before you get a ring on that finger. A package that's been opened doesn't have the same appeal."

If I had only listened to her advice, I would be living the perfect life, I mused.

Dr. Greene's voice quickly brought me out of my musings. She had a nice smile; she really tried her best to put my mind at ease and was gentle in her suggestion that I put on some weight. I freaked out when she suggested a vaginal exam. My gaze shifted to Christian, my eyes wide with apprehension. He put his arm and my shoulder and assured me it was going to be okay.

"It's the best way to confirm your pregnancy and make sure everything is going well," Dr. Greene said kindly. "Especially since you haven't had this type of exam before."

Both Christian and Dr. Green stepped out of the room so I could change into a gown. We were in a room that had an examination table and other medical supplies. It was like I was in a real clinic except this was in my new home.

Dr. Green returned alone. My heart sank. I considered bolting out of the room and never turning back, but Christian really wanted me to do this. The moment of truth was here and there was no escaping my fate. I took a deep breath like she told me. I closed my eyes, and before I knew it, it was all over.

"Congratulations," Dr. Greene said. "You are five weeks pregnant."

NO! I screamed in my head, her words hit me like a thousand bricks. All along, I'd been harboring the secret hope that I was all a mistake and that I wasn't truly pregnant. I held my head, it throbbed like somebody hit me with a hammer. My eyes burned. I couldn't stop the sobs, the shaking, the sounds coming out of my mouth seemed prehistoric.

It wasn't fair, I wanted so desperately to start a new life with Christian. But this baby was a link to the past I couldn't ignore. God, how was I supposed to get a clean break from the past as long as I carried a reminder of Jose's shadow everywhere I went?

Dr. Greene cocked her head at my reaction. "I take it this is not good news? There are other options, my dear."

NOTE: Merry Xmas & happy new year!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen

Ana POV

It took me a minute to fully realize what Dr. Greene was suggesting. She made it sound so easy. Get rid of it. My life restored, period. Except it wasn't that easy, was it? I certainly found her description of the procedure horrifying. I told her I knew someone, a classmate of mine who had an abortion and lived to regret it, as she was would never be able to have children. Now that I had a better understanding of Alicia's predicament, I wished I had offered her my friendship and support when everyone else shunned her.

Dr. Green shook her head and assured me the procedure was perfectly safe; it did not carry the same risks as back-alley abortions in countries where it was illegal.

"Take all the time you need to think about it... when you're ready, I have a colleague I highly recommend-"

I wiped the tears out of my eyes and stared at her. "A colleague?" My heart thumped in my chest.

"Yes, she has twenty-five years of experience, she's the best. Don't worry, you'll be in excellent hands."

I hated doctors. In my experience, they weren't straightforward, never giving you the facts. It annoyed me how Dr. Greene's terminology had changed the minute she realized this pregnancy was unwanted. The baby I was carrying was no longer a baby but a mass of cells.

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became I could NOT go through an elective operation like that, it scared the living daylights out me.

Later

Once again, I found myself regretting my past decision of sleeping with Jose. If only I had waited until Christian came along, I would not be in this awful predicament.

"I don't think there's anything to decide. Abortion is against my religion," I told Christian much later after thinking things through. Still, I couldn't help feeling deeply conflicted. I felt like I was literally walking in someone else's shoes, shoes that I'd never thought I would wear. I didn't want this baby, but I also knew that the consequences of terminating this pregnancy would be far worse. For one, I would probably end up hating myself every day of my life.

Perhaps, there were other solutions. I thought about Christian's father and his decision to give up his daughter for adoption. Perhaps, I had judged him too harshly. He'd made the best decision he could live with at the time. In my case, only time would tell. If Christian wasn't able to fully embrace this child as his own, then maybe the best would be for him or her to be adopted by a loving family.

"Maybe we could consider adoption as a possibility."

Christian POV

I admired Ana's courage for not taking the easy way out. Hearing her mention adoption as a possibility really got me thinking. Personally, I was still struggling with mixed feelings about this pregnancy. Yet, I tried to look at things from her point of view. Whatever she decided, had to be something she could live with today and years from now.

"I don't think that will be necessary," I told her. "This child is the grandchild my father always wanted," I told her. I needed to focus on the big picture, and not let my jealousy of that prick get the best of me.

After a long day at work and a quiet dinner in the balcony of my father's room, I slipped into bed, fully intending to spend some time messing with my phone to distract myself from any lustful thoughts of my beautiful bride. Whenever my thoughts strayed in that direction, I reminded myself once again about my resolution to not bed her until I was certain she was no longer in love with that man. It was called self-preservation.

Eventually, I found myself getting drowsy, and reached over to plug my phone onto the charger on my nightstand and turn out the light. For a short while, all I heard was the sound of the shower. It nearly lulled me to sleep. Thoughts of her gorgeous naked body invaded my mind. I must have been half-asleep when I heard the shower shut off. That was a really looong shower she took, wasn't it?

I don't know how much time passed before my nostrils picked up the lovely scent of her shampoo. I opened my eyes as she opened the door, a flicker of light behind her. She appeared like an angel wearing a sheer white nightgown. She dimmed the lights and took off the sexy thing she was wearing and let it drop to the floor. She stood there completely in the nude and waited until my eyes had adjusted to the darkness before slipping under the covers beside me, her gorgeous lean body seeking mine in between the sheets. She put my hand to her breast and I completely lost all self-restraint. In two seconds flat, I stripped off my boxers and pajamas and returned to her awaiting arms, all thoughts about self-preservation going out the window. Our open mouths met in a wild tongue kiss, dragging her beneath me. It seemed like there was never a softer female body, never anything as yielding and luscious as her embrace.

I pulled the covers away and looked down at the trimmed patch between her legs, glistening wet. I was pleased she had done a Brazilian shave just for me. No wonder she'd been in the shower so long, she'd gotten herself aroused by shaving off every single crevice of the apex between her thighs completely bare like a baby's bottom. She'd left only a sexy line right above her pubic bone. I was thrilled, but I needed to pace myself. Kissing a slow teasing trail from her breasts down to her abdomen, I ran my hands down her smooth inner thighs and leaned in. I breathed in on her pussy, making her sigh. I began to lick gently the sides of her clit, purposely avoiding it, my arms lifting her legs to rest on my shoulders, my hands resting on top of her mound, ALMOST touching her clit.

"Please, hurry," she whined, desperate and soaked in her own juices when I finally slid my finger over her clit.

Her legs opened wider, her bare pussy lips beckoned to be taken. I ran a finger up the crease down to her swollen clit to move some of the moisture there. I stroked her naked ass and felt her shiver. I plunged one of my fingers inside her sex and she moaned long and hard. In one sweep motion, I held her by the hips and I tasted her. One long stroke along her slit and she was panting instantly. I thrust my tongue at her sweet entrance.

"Ah," she moaned when I pulled out, teasing her slippery flesh. "Please!"

I smirked at her. "Please what?"

"Please take me!" she breathed lustfully, staring at me with pleading eyes, shame and arousal coloring her cheeks.

For one glorious moment, my eyes feasted on the sight of her pink flesh throbbing. I thrust my tongue deep inside of her, my hands stretching her pussy lips wide open and she grabbed onto my hair, pulling hard. The fragrance of her pussy combined with the sweet flavor of her juices was overpowering. Her thighs convulsed as I continued to nibble on her clit until she squirted her juices into my awaiting mouth. I lapped up every single drop.

"Say my name," I demanded, and she whimpered in protest. It took an amazing amount of control to not immediately plunge inside of her but I was claiming her heart and her soul.

"Oh, Christian," she breathed sooo needy, and sooo fucking ready.

I entered her SWEET wetness with one smooth thrust.

"You're so fucking tight," I murmured thrusting inside of her and holding still for a second before drawing it back out. I didn't want to embarrass myself by coming within seconds. Her back arched with the pleasure and the shock of my quick withdrawal. Then I slammed my shaft deep inside of her, jolting her as I reached the far end of her cave. A raw and animalistic urge took over as I began to pound my cock in and out of her soaked pussy. In an effort to keep me buried deep inside, she wrapped her legs around me and her inner muscles clung to my every thrust, urging me to take her over the edge. The sound of our fucking filled the air my growl of possession mixed with her cries of pleasure. With one final plunge, I arched my back and let her clenching pussy suck all the milk from my pulsating cock.

"Mine!" I claimed her as I pushed harder, deeper. Together we soared into the heights of a blissful climax, the amazing buzz racing through my nerve endings. The connection between us was unlike anything I'd ever experienced: We were one.

Ana POV

Our lovemaking was beyond beautiful, it was the most fulfilling sexual experience of my life. In comparison, my experience with Jose was seriously lacking. Because Jose pulled out every single time as our method of birth control, I was always left with a gaping hole, wanting more. But last night had truly been beyond my wildest dream. Christian was so big, it felt like he filled every empty space inside of me. I felt deliciously stretched, every inch of me humming and happy. Once I'd made the decision to come to his bed and give myself to him, I floated and enjoyed every last drop of his warmth as it filled me to the rim. I'd always craved a confident man like him, a man who knew how to satisfy a woman with a take-charge attitude, a man who made me beg for more.

Waking up in his arms the following morning, I smiled to myself as I recalled how he'd said he wouldn't sleep with me until I begged. Who would have thought that begging would feel sooo good?

The amazing orgasm he'd given me had been followed by this astonishing sense of peace. All night long, I'd slept in his arms deliriously happy. The only thing that put a damper on my happiness was the baby growing inside of me. For now, I had decided to push the thought out of my mind as soon as it appeared. Part of me knew that this problem wasn't going to simply go away, and the other part of me, wanted desperately to believe the problem wasn't getting any bigger as long as I refused to dwell on it.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Christian greeted me as I sauntered back into the bedroom freshly showered, giving me his best-dimpled smile.

I climbed in bed with him in a silky bath-robe. I was more than ready for him to make love to me again, except he'd ordered breakfast, and it had been served in two silver trays on either side of the bed. The aroma was delicious. I felt like I was living Cinderella's happily ever after minus the evil stepmother and stepsisters.

We had just finished eating and were getting ready for round two when there was an urgent knock on our door. My first thought was that maybe, it was time for my carriage to turn into a pumpkin.

"Mr. Grey?" A deep male voice inquired. I recognized it as being Taylor's.

"Yes?" Christian replied with irritation.

...

Christian POV

Minutes later, I was in my dad's room accompanied by Ana. She sat in a chair beside me as I scooted my chair closer to his bed. The minute I saw the expression of sympathy the doctor and nurses wore on their faces, I braced myself for the worst.

"Dad," I took his hand in mine. "I'm here." Right then, I deeply regretted every second of my adolescent blatant disobedience. "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna get through this. Just try to stay calm."

"I love you, son," he said. Every word was spoken with concentrated effort.

I held my tongue. I couldn't say I loved him, in my book that was akin to giving him permission to die. I couldn't do that, I needed him, dammit!

"Elena.. come... and see me..."

I couldn't believe dad mentioned THAT woman at a time like this.

"No, dad, Elena can't come and see you. She's been barred from this house."

"Why?" dad shook his head, an expression of anxiety on his face. "I want... her... here."

I really couldn't go into much detail without upsetting my poor dad. I wasn't terribly surprised at his request. My father and Elena had an on-again, off-again relationship for years, even while she had me in her secret dungeon. Of course, dad never found out that she'd been training me as her submissive. I'd had always known Elena had her sights set on Carrick in the hopes of getting her hands on his fortune.

Carrick struggled to breathe. The expression on his face freaked the heck out of me.

"Dad, try to rest please," I pleaded. I looked to the doctor to do something, but he merely shook his head sadly as if to say there was nothing he could do. The unspoken words between us: _Your father signed a DNR_. The words hung in the air like a big cloud of smoke. Right then, I wanted to grab the man and shake him, demand that he do something to save my father. But then, my focus returned to dad, as his eyes became suddenly desperate.

"Christian... there's... something... I need... to tell... you," he said barely above a whisper. I moved closer to hear him better but he was now unresponsive.

"Dad?" I muttered in a voice I barely recognized as my own. I felt my heart squeezing in my chest, and a lump the size of mars lodge in my throat. This couldn't be happening, I thought, my eyes burning. I wasn't about to lose my father like I lost my mother so many years ago. At once, I felt the ache of unbearable loneliness of looking for my mother in every room of the house and not finding her. _Dad! Don't leave me!_

…...

Note: Happy holidays!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter fourteen

Four weeks later

Christian POV

The last few weeks passed by in a blur. I don't remember many details, I went through the motions as if I was on autopilot. For a long time after my father's death, I felt like my arm had been amputated. They say that an amputee will keep looking for in the missing limb in the place it should be, attached to the body and then experience the shock of realizing it was no longer there long after the operation. In the same way, I kept looking for dad everywhere I turned, my eyes refusing to believe he was no longer there. Four weeks later, I still experienced the phantom pain of missing my father just like the day he passed.

If it hadn't been for Ana, I don't know how I could have survived the past few weeks. She was always there, by my side, offering comforting words. In my hour of pain, I felt our souls connecting in a way I'd never experienced before. She showed me how much by making love to me every night like it was both our first and last time. Although she'd never actually said the words: _I love you_, I felt loved by her. Being loved by her like this made coping with my grief a lot easier. Paradoxically, I'd never been this happy and also grief-stricken at the same time.

The loss of my father also meant a grandchild was no longer needed. As time went by, I found myself resenting more and more this baby growing inside my Ana. A nagging voice inside of mine kept reminding me it wasn't mine. It will never be mine. Before long, Ana and I found ourselves once again discussing the possibility of adoption. She told me my happiness came first, and I knew she was trying to reassure me she wanted no further ties to her ex-lover.

"I went on the internet and called an adoption agency. Apparently, the process is not as complicated as I thought, and I-we can even choose the adoptive parents," she told me matter-of-factly.

I nodded in agreement. I'm a big believer in adoption; after all, adoption saved my life. I would simply not be where I am today without it. I'm the CEO of GEH, a company my father built from the ground up. I took over the business when dad fell ill, and I will formally become the sole owner of the company in addition to his other properties at the reading of my father's will next week.

I don't know much about my birth parents, except I'm so much better off without them. I was an unwanted child. My mother was barely eighteen when she had me. She was a drug addict whose parents had kicked her out of their home because of her addiction. While I lived with her, there was never a father in the picture, just different men that weaved in and out of her life. I was lucky that Grace was working that night when I was brought into the hospital the night of Ella's drug overdose. Although I don't remember much about those early years, I was told I was malnourished and in a state of neglect. Because of Grace and her kindness, I found a home and two loving adoptive parents instead of being lost to the foster care system, shuffled around for years from home to home, my future uncertain.

"I do believe every child has the right to live a home where he or she is wanted," I told Ana. She immediately agreed. I was very pleased we were in complete agreement regarding this.

Ana POV

Christian has been through so much; his father's death was truly devastating. The first week was the hardest; he barely ate or slept, his normally clean-shaven face was replaced by rough facial hair. It pained me to see him like this; his well-being became my top priority. Every night we slept wrapped around one another like a pretzel until he was ready to resume our love life where we left off. I didn't have to wait very long; Christian was the master of sensuality. Every day, I looked forward to him coming home and making love to me. And we usually did, right after dinner, sometimes more than once a night. Tonight, I didn't even want to wait for dinner, I playfully lured him to our bed the minute he walked in the door.

I watched him with hooded eyes as he lowered his mouth to my breast and dampened the fabric of my bra with his tongue. I pulled off the garment and he resumed his caresses exactly where he left off. I felt my nipple thicken under his caress and let out a small murmur of pleasure. I ran my fingers through his hair, encouraging him, as he licked and sucked one breast and then the other.

While he stripped down, I pulled off my panties in one swift motion. Smiling, he pulled me underneath him, and I wrapped my arms around him, relishing our nakedness. His mouth slowly traveled down to the apex between my thighs which I kept cleanly shaven just for him. I gasped as his fingers separated my pussy lips which melted like honey at the lightest of touches. And held me like that wide open, knowing this made me wetter, enjoying the show, slow kneading the swollen nub between his fingers, driving me wild with desire.

"Always so ready, Mrs. Grey," he smirked at me before thrusting his tongue inside, exploring every crevice. My pussy muscles desperately tried to catch his tongue and hold it there deeper. AWW. Sensing my urgency, he flicked my clit with his tongue, my juices filling his mouth. Suddenly, he pulled the string and removed the weighted ball I've been wearing for the better part of the day. AWW. Lately, he's been having me wear the ball at least a couple hours in advance of our sexual encounters. He usually calls me on the home phone to remind me ( he hasn't given me another cell phone since he broke the last one). By the time he comes home from work, I'm so ready and needy I can barely stand it.

He continued his merciless assault, biting my clit gently between his teeth. My fervor escalated, I began to move my hips against his mouth and I exploded. A loud moan escaped my throat as his lips lapped my pussy for what seemed like hours building up to a second orgasm. My body rocked, my pussy throbbed.

I wanted him so desperately to fill me, I made an attempt to reach for his cock but he slapped my hand away. "Please come inside!" I begged.

His cock entered me half-way, I arched my back to meet his dominance, but he pulled it out midstroke only to start massaging the area surrounding my pussy lips. Then, he slowly moved to flick my pulsating clit, sending a shock of vibration. I was in agony. He was such a tease! Delicious and intense and ALL MINE! He pushed a finger inside me and started rocking my world, in and out, but I wanted his big cock to fill me. Once again, he repeated the same performance until my moans became unbearable to my own ears. Only then did he enter me in one merciless stroke. I clutched him in my arms like he was the owner of my last breath.

I relished the feel of his powerful physique, it felt no heavier than the comforter, enveloping me in its warmth. He kept stroking me at different speeds and intensities. Then, he flipped me on my stomach and placed a pillow under me. He entered me from behind and rode me slowly at first, and then abruptly switching to vigorous frenzy. My inner walls were clamping down on his cock as he was buried in me balls deep.

"You feel fantastic," he murmured and I made some sound I didn't recognize as a word. I couldn't speak, much less formulate a coherent sentence.

He lifted me again and flipped me onto my back and told me to close my eyes, absolutely no peeking.

I blinked, not questioning anything. Then, he got up and retrieved several articles of clothing and tied me to the two corners of the bed. By the time he told me to open my eyes, he was already stroking me in LONG satisfying strokes until I screamed his name in orgasmic intensity.

…

Five days later

We went to the lawyer's office for the reading of the will. After we were seated, Elena went came into the room, dressed up in a fur coat. She gave us a long condescending look before taking a seat on the opposite side of the room along with her lawyer. Just like at the funeral, Christian protested her presence and demanded she leave. Except that this time, we were told that Elena was a party to this reading as her name was in Carrick's Last Will and Testament.

After reading a few personal words from father to son, the lawyer read the Marriage clause to Christian: "You must be married and with a child by age thirty or Grey Enterprises and Holdings will be turned over to charity."

I was in shock. I expected to see a look of surprise on Christian's face but there was none. Did Christian somehow know about this?

Christian POV

Yes, I knew about the marriage clause but that doesn't mean I wasn't trying to fulfill my father's wishes when I decided to look for a mail-order-bride. One truth doesn't negate the other. I held Ana's gaze and squeezed her hand to reassure her this marriage clause did not mean anything. I loved her; being married to her was the best thing that had ever happened to me in my entire adult life.

Ana POV

Unfortunately, there were more surprises in store. The lawyer kept reading: An exception to this rule: if my daughter turns up anytime, regardless of whether or not the clause is fulfilled, she will be entitled to exactly half of my estate."

I blinked several times at that one. Wow. Greed. So that was the reason why Christian didn't want to find his sister, he wanted his father's entire fortune for himself. My opinion of him came down a few notches.

Suddenly, the lawyer representing Elena stood up and brought a paper over to the desk, claiming this was the most recent copy of Carrick's will and as such, it trumped the copy that was just read. Both lawyers compared the dates and argued the authenticity of each copy.

Christian POV

"Just read the damn copy," I said, wanting to get it over with, shooting daggers at Elena. In response, she rolled her eyes at me and looked away with a huff. Judging by Steinberg's reaction, whatever it said was highly controversial and I couldn't take the suspense.

Henry Steinberg cleared his throat before continuing. "I hereby leave all my assets to my wife Elena, including Grey Enterprises & Holdings."

There was a collective gasp in the room. In shock, I turned my head. My eyes instantly connected with Elena's. The bitch smiled a sly smile. Beside me, Ana met my gaze and lovingly squeezed my hand in hers.

"WIFE? She's not his wife!" I exclaimed, outraged.

Steinberg adjusted his glasses. "Christian, I have a marriage certificate here between Ms. Lincoln and your father."

"W-hat? What is the date of this document? Did my father sign this?" I fired at Steinberg, my voice as hard as steel, holding him partially responsible. "This has got to be fake!

My lawyer shook his head no. "I'm afraid it's legit."

I couldn't believe Elena had duped my father into marrying her. I really hoped this was NOT what my dad had been trying to tell me in his dying breath. I'd spent many sleepless nights thinking, wondering about what he'd wanted to tell me. "When did this happen?"

Steinberg handed me the document. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it. This was dated three days prior to my marriage to Anastasia. So, Elena had planned this out in advance, wanting to rob me of my rightful inheritance. Who knew, how on earth had she had convinced him to marry her? Shame on her for taking advantage of a man on his death bed. I wanted to grab the woman by the throat and choke the life out her!

I grabbed the second document, supposedly the latest copy of my father's Last Will and Testament. It had the same date as the marriage certificate. The more I stared at it, the more I came to believe that Elena had manipulated my father into signing both documents.

"I don't believe my father was in full possession of his mental faculties when he signed these documents," I told Steinberg, ignoring the other lawyer's objections. There was no way I was accepting this without a good fight. I turned toward Elena and her lawyer, how I wished to wipe that evil smirk off their faces! "You're not getting away with this!" I believed I had more than enough grounds to contest this, and if Elena Lincoln thought I was about to give up, she had another thing coming.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's note: Sorry for the long wait, hope you're all doing well wherever you are in these times of uncertainty. I understand this story is not everyone's cup of tea but perhaps it's time to clarify a few things. When you read,** keep in mind Ana DOESN'T want her baby, it was unplanned and unwanted. This was shown in the very first chapter. She doesn't just suddenly agree with Christian on this to make him happy. She didn't want this baby from the start.**

This point is a major premise of the story, as well as Ana's regrets about her past. Some decisions in life can't be undone. If you don't like any of that, I strongly suggest you stop reading.

**This chapter is dedicated to FSOGFanFictionAddiction**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

Ana POV

The reading of Carrick's will had taken the better part of the afternoon. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife and I couldn't wait to get out of there. At last, it was over. Before I knew what was happening, Elena and her lawyer had scurried away like roaches in the night, and Christian was grilling Steinberg with the same questions over and over again.

At last, we left the lawyer's office. Christian was shell-shocked but determined to make the best of the situation. To take his mind off what had just transpired, he decided to take me out to dinner at a fine restaurant. He thought he was doing something nice for me, but this was my first experience at a place like this. I was embarrassed, mortified of making a big mistake, as I didn't know which fork to use or how to address the waiter. But Christian was very patient, not at all troubled about having to provide the most basic explanations that I assumed everyone he knew took for granted.

For our first course, I ordered a soup and Christian ordered a salad. It wasn't until the waiter brought our food that our conversation turned to Carrick's last will and testament.

"It'll be alright," he said suddenly. "We will contest this."

"I...was just wondering about something."

"Tell me."

I nodded and he looked at me curiously. "You look worried," he said. "Don't be, we'll get through this."

"There's one thing...what about your sister?"

"What about her?"

"Everything I heard today...I don't know but it sounded like you didn't want to find her, Christian...did you even look for her?"

"I did," Christian replied a bit on the defensive. **"**Okay, fine, I didn't really want to find her. But it wasn't because I didn't want to deny her her share of my father's inheritance. No, no. I didn't want to find her because finding her would have been like literally opening a Pandora's box. Who was to say this sister of mine wanted to be found? And even if she did, there were no guarantees that this girl, this stranger would have loved my father back," he shook his head with a defeated expression. "Don't you see? Most likely, she would have harbored anger and resentment over having been given up for adoption. And the worst part is that my father would have been heartbroken to learn that his long-lost daughter hated him. In the best-case scenario, she might have tolerated him but only because of his money. I couldn't in good conscience put him through this."

"So you really believe this?"

"I do."

"With all your heart?"

"Yes, with all my heart."

His words reassured me some. Perhaps, I had misjudged him? Still, he must have seen the hesitation in my face.

"Still you're not convinced?" He reached for my hand across the table but I didn't fully reciprocate his affection. In response, Christian took a deep breath and let it out in a huff.

"I love you, Ana," he suddenly said to me. And I looked away, I still had my doubts. "Talk to me, please...what else is bothering you?"

"One of the first things you said to me after we got married was that you'd married me because you wanted to fulfill your dad's final wish...," I told him, "but you didn't mention that...that there was a marriage clause." While it was true that I didn't fully understand the legal ramifications of Carrick's last testament, I wanted to make sure that money wasn't the main motivation behind Christian's decision to marry me.

"This marriage clause doesn't change a thing. I was smitten from the moment I saw your video, Ana...don't you see? Nothing could possibly change that...ever."

My eyes instantly connected with his and my heart melted at his words and his expression. I knew he had to be speaking the truth; I felt it every time he looked at me, every time we had sex. Still, I had to know. Why didn't he try to find a bride locally?

"But...why, Christian? Wouldn't it have been easier to find a bride here in this country?"

"Ana," he said with emotion, ignoring my question**.** "I love you so much...I only wish you'd feel the same about me," he said reaching for my hand again and giving it a little squeeze. This time, I didn't pull away.

I looked at him in confusion.

"You have never said you love me," he said with a glint of vulnerability that pulled at my heartstrings, " I, on the other hand, have openly shared my feelings for you every chance I get."

"But I do..." I protested, my heart pounding. "I do love you, Christian."

"But you never said so," he replied accusingly. "Why didn't you?"

I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't have a good explanation; except that in the past, I'd learned to be guarded of my feelings. I had shown Jose my love and devotion, again and again, hoping he would finally marry me, but it seemed to have had the opposite effect. He became cocky and arrogant; he took advantage of my innocence and took me to bed instead of the altar.

I sighed deeply, if only I had waited for Christian to show up I wouldn't be in the predicament I am today. For the umpteenth time, I wondered if' Id ever be free from my mistake.

"I don't know...all I know is that I love you, very much, Christian," I said with unshed tears in my eyes. It felt good to finally say the words.

In response, Christian raised my hands to his lips and kissed it. "Let's go home, my love," he said his voice low with a sexy promise. It wasn't until later that I realized that he'd never really answered my question. I still didn't know why he'd chosen to look for a mail-order-bride.

"Why me?" I asked him later that night in the afterglow of our lovemaking. He turned to look at me curiously. "You could have had any woman in the world, Christian. Why did you look for a bride from a foreign country?"

Christian thought about my question for a moment before answering. "There are many reasons," he began, tracing a finger alongside my arm. The gentle caress sent delicious shivers down my spine. "For one, I wanted to marry a woman with traditional old-fashioned values. The American dating scene was not for me. It would have taken me years to find the right woman, and I didn't exactly have a lot of time on my hands," he paused meaningfully.

"But..you didn't try dating?"

"Not really. Why bother? My experience with women is that they'd only ever wanted one thing only from me...my father's money."

"That sounds quite cynical."

Christian shrugged. "It's the truth," he stated looking at me curiously. "Now it's my turn to ask the hard questions," he cocked his head. I nodded after a moment, encouraging him to continue. "So...how come you decided to become a mail-order bride? Aside from the obvious, that is. Weren't you concerned about the type of man you married? I could have been an ogre for all you knew."

"It was Jose's idea. Hmm...after he got arrested, I-" I trailed off. I was finding it hard to explain this convincingly. At the time, I'd rationalized Jose's intentions but now I realized just how ridiculous it sounded. How could I possibly believe that Jose loved me after insisting I marry another man, even if it was supposedly for my own good?

"Jose was worried I would not be able to make it without his income," I stated simply. Yes, it sounded awful. But Jose had been right in a way. Where I came from there was no escaping poverty, it's a matter of luck... back home, there is no welfare system to help women like me."

I was worried that the mention of Jose's name might send Christian off again into a jealous rage. Much to my surprise, Christian nodded, prompted me to continue. I swallowed before continuing.

"I almost turned around and left when I got to the agency...but then one of the women there told me about several success stories. She said most of the women that used their agency found their happily ever afters. She told me that most American men are kinder to the women that sign up than the local men."

I was about to say more about this but then changed my mind as it was a touchy subject. The woman at the agency had also talked about what I could expect in terms of marital faithfulness. She'd said that American men were less likely to stray and that they valued women and treated them as equals. It all sounded so good. Hearing her speak, I couldn't help but want that kind of relationship for myself. I thought about Jose and how he thought it was okay to flirt with other women, and how I believed he'd been unfaithful at least once in the last three years. But I'd been too afraid to rock the boat, and turned a blind eye to all of this. I'm not proud of it, but I had done what I had to do to survive. Jose's financial support had allowed me to take care of my mother and my sister too.

"I hope you realize that bastard didn't care about you. He was only trying to assuage his guilty conscience."

I nodded. "I know. I thought I loved him but I now realize it wasn't true love," I said looking into his eyes. "I love you, Christian...I don't know when or how I fell in love with you," I said, my eyes starting to feel heavy with sleep. "falling in love with you was like falling asleep slowly and then all at once you realize you're sleeping."

Christian POV

That night, I had trouble going to sleep. Ana, on the other hand, had fallen asleep in my arms with a contented sigh. Our talk had really shed some light on Ana's motivations. Even though I hated the thought of Ana with that bastard, in the end, I felt far superior to him. What kind of a man sends his woman off into the arms of another man? I was confident that there was no way on earth Ana would ever consider going back to him; he obviously didn't love her.

I fluffed my pillow and tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. Even though I felt my relationship with Anastasia was stronger than ever, and I was able to erase her doubts and insecurities, I was apprehensive about our future.

I still couldn't believe Carrick had disowned me and left everything to Elena. I had been a good son to him, there was no reason in the world for him to do this; the only possible explanation that made sense was that Elena had tricked him both into marrying him and in the signing of that final document.

The next day, I went back to work as usual but I didn't make it past the lobby. I made the way to my subordinates who were waiting out with the security guards. This didn't make sense. I was the CEO and son of the founder of this company. I was convinced nothing could possibly change that, especially because of the contested will. But I was dead wrong. I called Steinberg in a rage.

But Steinberg had more bad news. He told me that I needed to vacate the house as soon as possible as there was a court order in place now. I started shouted obscenities and the security guards forced me out of the building. This couldn't possibly be happening, Christian Trevelyan Grey getting cast out into the street like a worthless dog!

Later that morning, I found Ana relaxing in our breakfast nook reading a book. I was too upset to break the news to her gently. Seeing the crazed look on my face, she gazed at me with growing apprehension.

"Everything is gone!" I cried out in despair. "The world has turned against me. I have nothing left, absolutely nothing, except maybe the clothes on my back!" I plopped into the seat beside her and bowed my head in my hands.

A moment later, I felt my wife's soft hand creep around my neck. "Oh, Christian," she murmured with a sigh. "You still have me, your wife. You will always have me."

**Author's note: If you're in the mood for a lighter read, check out my other story She Just Gets Me. Thanks**


	16. Chapter 16

Author's note:

When I posted the previous chapter there was a typo which I fixed the next day. I mistakenly typed pent-house instead of mansion. Just to clarify, prior to this chapter, they were living in a grand mansion but starting here they're now living in the pent-house. I was getting ahead of myself there :)

Also, there's a new story out there by a popular author on this site with a similar title to this one. If you have several tabs open at once, double check the names to avoid confusion before you start reading ;)

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Chapter Sixteen

Four and a half months later

Christian POV

I was in bed watching TV when she walked out of the bathroom wearing a black lace nightie that hit mid-thigh. It wasn't one I'd seen before, this one was meant for her new growing figure. It covered enough to be considered decent, but her breasts were much larger now, her cleavage enticing no matter what she wore. I started feeling something down in my groin but then my gaze settled on her baby bump and my desire for her flew out the window.

She lay on her side, facing me and I tried to ignore how much of her breasts were exposed at the moment. She ran her fingers up my chest and leaned in close, a clear invitation to jump her bones.

"Time to turn off the TV," She mumbled in a throaty seductive voice.

In response, I pursed my lips and turned to stare unseeing at the TV. I truth, I wasn't attracted to her anymore. I wasn't trying to be a dick, I just didn't feel much of anything at the moment; actually, I hadn't felt anything in many months. In some ways, I was dead inside. I continued to stare at the TV, remote control in hand while she just lay there, her gaze shifting between me and the TV screen waiting for me to turn it off.

"I think the baby kicked!" She said with sudden emotion, and I blinked. That was the last thing I expected her to say. "Want to feel?" The hesitancy in her voice was sweet but I stubbornly resisted its pull.

I shook my head, threw the covers off, and headed for the bathroom, all in one fluid motion. I was barely aware of the look of profound disappointment in her eyes. I couldn't help it, I knew I was shutting her out but I just didn't know anymore. I didn't know how to be me anymore, I didn't know how to be us.

* * *

Ana POV

Tears started falling, the sound of the shower muffling my sobs. My body heaved and mourned for the loss of our relationship. Christian and I hadn't had sex since I started showing. It's very hard living like this, going through the motions, knowing that my husband doesn't want me in that way. How I wish I could turn back time and get a do-over. I know, I sound like a broken record, but it's true. I can't help but regret the choices I've made. It's all my fault; everything is my fault, I thought as I reached for the remote to turn the TV off.

By the time Christian got out of the shower, I was half-asleep. Before getting into bed, he turned off the TV. For a moment, our eyes connected in the dark, but then he crawled under the sheets and turned his back to me. I lay on my own, staring at his back for what seemed like hours. Memories drifted through my mind; my lips remembered the feel of his the first time we kissed, the first time we made love. The memories continued to drift and play in my head with tears in my eyes.

How had things gone so wrong?

I buried my face in my pillow and let the flood gates open, hot tears spilling down my cheeks. The pain of all that I lost—my father's fingers intertwined with mine. And me wanting to go out and play, not realizing until it was too late his soul was already gone. The pain of leaving my family behind, the pain of beatings endured in the name of love, and the pain of being rejected by the one I love.

Oh, Christian!

The aching in my chest and throat was raw, and I didn't know if I could bear it. How could I continue to lay in bed with him night after night knowing my own husband found me unattractive...maybe even repulsive? How could I?! I wanted to run away from the grief and I prayed that the pain would eventually diminish.

Oh, God, how had things gone so wrong?

Maybe that was not the real question.

Maybe the real question was, what has gone right?

Everything about the last few months had been tough. We lost everything. Well, almost everything. I still remember the day we were forced to leave our home and I said good-bye to the hummingbirds and the cozy breakfast nook. I was sad because the nook and the library had become a place of refuge for me. Still, my former life as a nomad had taught me not to get too attached to places. Christian, on the other hand, did not have the same advantage. He took it quite hard. He started drinking, some days he crawled in bed under the covers and watched TV all day. It pained me to see him like this.

I figured my job as a wife was to be understanding and wait it out. Wait for Christian to come around. As it turned out, we weren't completely penniless. But Christian didn't see it that way at all, in his mind he was as good as destitute. However, with the money he had saved over the years, he was able to secure a place for us to live, a nice pent-house with a state of the art CCVT system.

Christian insisted we maintain our same standard of living and to that effect, he took money out of his CD accounts and investment portfolios. And even though he said he was applying online for various positions, he refused to consider any job offer that he considered beneath him. In the meantime, Steinberg assured us that he was working hard on contesting the will.

Steinberg went to court on our behalf but Elena's attorney had a few tricks under his sleeve. As it turned out, Elena had a collection of love letters that Carrick had written her over the years. In a couple of them, the idea of marriage was discussed. Elena's attorney was trying to prove that the letters meant Carrick's marriage to Elena was a legitimate one.

Last month we moved to a three-story pent-house. I found it roomy and delightful, but Christian wasn't happy. I honestly didn't understand. Having experienced both being immensely rich and incredibly poor had given me some perspective. Being rich does not guarantee happiness; in fact, money is not all that great, especially if you let your ego get in the way. And despite what you might expect, being poor has its advantages; those with nothing to lose*** lose nothing.

Gail and Taylor were the best, they moved with us to the pent-house and even said they would agree to a smaller salary. Christian wouldn't hear of it, he insisted on paying them what he always paid them.

Still, Christian was very pessimistic, calling our financial situation unstable. I had to admit sometimes his actions didn't make much sense to me.

"I can find a job somewhere, I can wait tables or maybe answer the phone," I told him one day. I was looking at things optimistically, being financially deprived had given me strength. The way I saw it, there was only one way for me to go but up. It didn't matter what kind of job I took, sooner or later, I would start climbing the ladder.

But Christian wouldn't hear of it; he told me in no uncertain terms that there was no way he was allowing it.

….

The following morning

Today I had an appointment with my new OB-gyn. Normally, Taylor would have driven me here but he'd left earlier this morning with Christian so I had to take a taxi to the clinic. Admittedly, I was worried about Christian. And it wasn't just the state of our relationship. Or how most of the time he behaved as though the baby didn't exist. I was worried about Christian's emotional well-being, I suspected he was depressed. He showed all the classical signs. Given that I had grown up with a mother who had gone through recurring bouts of depression, I knew the signs all too well.

I wasn't doing well either. At thirty-four weeks, this pregnancy was taking a toll on me physically and emotionally. Swollen feet, sciatic pain, and anxiety about the future were my constant companions. I rarely allow myself about the baby, every day I go through the motions, trying not to think much about my situation. However, my doctor just informed me that she believes the baby was small for her age and has ordered additional testing.

"Is _she _going to be okay?" I asked. My heart thumped in my chest as if it was a hummingbird trapped inside. Dr. Smith knew that I was putting my baby up for adoption and that I've already selected a couple to adopt my baby.

Dr. Smith gave me a rueful smile and said due to the low level of amniotic fluid, she would need to do a non-stress test. The nurse came in and took additional measurements. I bit my lip and wondered if all this had to do with the fact that I started this pregnancy being underweight and so far, I had failed to gain the recommended amount of weight.

For the duration of the test, I had to remain still sitting in a chair strapped to an external baby monitor. I found this test to was making me nervous and stressed out, although the nurses kept telling me this was a great opportunity to chill out and relax. They encouraged me to lay back in my chair with a selection of glossy-covered magazines.

I picked up an issue of Fit Pregnancy with an eye-catching headline: Your New Body, Sexier Than Ever. The very pregnant woman on the cover looked so happy and radiant; I bet her husband worships her body and tends to her every need. Just flipping through the pages of this stupid magazine had me drowning in a sea of tears. The sting of rejection from last night was still too raw. Beside me, Gail gave my arm a reassuring pat. She truly had been an angel these past few months, I don't know what I would have done without her. Of course, she had no idea what I was going through, she just assumed I was worried about the pregnancy.

"Good news, you passed," the nurse told me. "We still need to get another fifteen minutes on the machine for the records. Oh, and Dr. Smith still wants you to come back next week for another test."

I drew in a shaky breath. The future was so uncertain. Plus, I hated these sessions, they were nerve-wracking. Listening to the baby's steady beat of the baby's heartbeat brought me back to the here and now. I was fighting a battle that was going to be next to impossible to win. Every time I saw her image on the ultrasound machine or listening to her heartbeat on the baby monitor, my heart did a little flutter. Admittedly, as the days turned into weeks and I got to feel the baby doing somersaults inside of me, I found myself between a rock and hard place. I loved the baby AND at the same time, I was struggling to remain appropriately detached as all the experts recommended.

I needed to keep reminding myself of my reasons for giving her away. It was for the best. Yes, it was the best for her. We'd found a couple that wanted her, a couple that was more than willing to give her all the love and devotion she deserved. Over the last few months, I'd gotten to know Jane and her husband Paul, they were a wonderful couple who deserved the happiness of having a family of their own. They'd struggled for so many years, suffered three heart-wrenching miscarriages. I couldn't have possibly have asked for a better set of parents for my baby. I felt lucky to count them as my friends; they were the only friends I had in this country aside from Gail and Taylor. And I was happy knowing I was contributing to their happiness.

I hated going back and forth on this. But there was a part of me ( a very small part of me indeed) that wanted to keep the baby. Even though this baby was a tie to Jose, my past was an ocean away. I took comfort in the fact that Jose was not coming back into my life in the foreseeable future.

On the other hand, I had just turned twenty, I had my whole life ahead of me. One day, Christian and I would have our own children. But I had to let this little one go; I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that keeping this baby would be like re-reading the same page of a novel over and over again. When all I needed to start a new chapter of my life with a clean slate.

"Ana," Gail said, her hand once again reaching to touch my arm. For a fraction of a second, I had almost fallen asleep but my eyes quickly fluttered open at her loving touch. "It's true that when you start a new chapter of your life you end your previous one," she went on as though she'd been reading my mind. "But...the thing is, when you start your new chapter, the previous one doesn't have to end as though it had never existed. Instead, it adds to the chapter you're going to start and plays a more significant role in your life."

"Even if it ruins my chances for a perfect new chapter?"

Gail gave me a knowing look as if she could grasp the truth I was not able to see. "Oh, Ana, I remember being your age and thinking that way. But life is not a romance novel, life never gives you picture-perfect chapters."

Author's note:

Many Thanks to **T Traveller **for kindly looking over this chapter and sharing her ideas with me. To put it simply, without her, there would be no chapter.

Everyone, I have struggled with inspiration in the writing of these last two chapters and therefore, it is fair to say, I have no idea when I will be posting the next one. I do have great plans for this story and it's my intention to finish it. Hopefully, you will want to keep reading. Thank you for bearing with me, see you next time.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Gail's words hung in the air like a feather in the wind, giving me plenty of food for thought. Was she trying to tell me, in a roundabout way, that if I didn't keep the baby sooner or later I was going to regret it?

No, no, I really didn't want to think about that right now, I was already wrestling with my own doubts, thank you very much.

I had just handed my health card to the receptionist when my cell phone rang. I ignored it the first time since I was busy managing the calendar on my phone and trying to schedule my next appointment. I now had a new cell phone with limited service. The fact that I cannot access the internet or make or receive international calls does not bother me, the important thing is that I have a phone that takes care of my basic needs.

"You're all set, Mrs. Grey. See you next Tuesday at 4:00 O'clock," the receptionist told me with a plastic smile, handing me my card.

My phone rang again just as I was putting my card away. It was Jane calling. She and her husband Paul were inviting me to go with them to their place to see their newly decorated nursery. I felt a little weird about that, but at the same time, I wanted to see the room. I know, it was like I was looking for a clear sign telling me that was making the right choice and that my baby belongs with them.

"I need to ask my husband first," I told Jane. I probably should have said 'check with my husband' instead of 'ask', I belatedly realized. But I couldn't help it, I was raised to always put my husband's needs ahead of my own. So if Christian had told me I couldn't go to this thing, then I wouldn't go.

"Okay, I'll call you back in five minutes," she told me before hanging up.

Afterward, I kept calling Christian but I couldn't reach him. In the end, I decided it would be okay to go to their place. I would be gone two or three hours at the most, and according to my calculations, in plenty of time for dinner.

"Okay, I will go but I need to be back home by seven," I told Jane when she called back.

"No problem," said Jane, "We'll be there in 20 minutes."

I hung up the phone and Gail shook her head in disapproval when I told her of my plans.

"So let me get this straight... Jane couldn't come to this appointment with you today because she was working...and yet she can manage to come and pick you up in twenty minutes?"

"Well, I think she's just leaving work," I said glancing at my watch. It was ten minutes to four. Most people get off work around this time, don't they? "Anyway, we won't be gone long, don't worry."

"We?" Gail gave me a regretful look. "I'm sorry, Ana, but I'm afraid I can't go with you. I need to run some errands and still have time to fix dinner."

I was disappointed to hear that, I wanted her to come with me. Even though we're friends, and we often cook together, Gail has insisted on keeping tight boundaries around her role as a housekeeper. "I would really prefer it if you came with me," I asked her. I didn't want to order her around. Like I've said before, to me Gail was more like a friend, not a servant.

I waited a couple of minutes before trying to call Christian again but once again he didn't answer. I left him a voice mail with my detailed plans except for the address of my destination. Shortly after, Gail hailed a taxi and we said good-bye. I waited in the reception area until Paul and Jane arrived at the clinic to pick me up.

The drive to their country house took longer than I expected, I hadn't fully realized that the couple adopting my baby lived so far away from the city.

"We're almost there," Jane said enthusiastically turning in the passenger seat to look me in the eye as her husband turned onto a winding road. I envied her sleek bob-cut hair, it was so shiny and smooth not even the wind during a thunderstorm could knock a strand out of place.

Paul drove another two miles before turning into yet another winding road, except that this one was a dirt road. The dirt road went down for another quarter of a mile, past horse stables, and pathways that led to other homes in the area. The road was bumpy but not bad in my opinion.

As Jane pointed out the house in the distance, I took in the fact that their place was so secluded you would need to walk quite a distance to borrow a cup of sugar from the neighbors. The house itself sat back on a hill at the end of a long concrete driveway. It was a two-story home with enough parking to house twenty cars comfortably.

Jane helped me out of the car. I felt huge and hideous next to her tall and curvaceous frame. _Stop it, Ana, stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're not fat, just pregnant._ I needed to stop comparing myself to Jane; I wondered if other pregnant women had the same same problem or if it was just me.

Stepping into the doorway, my first thought was that this house looked absolutely perfect like it belonged on the cover of a magazine. Perfect furnishings, not a speck of dust, or anything out of place. I tried to picture my baby taking her first steps in this impeccable living room, her little hands on the Victorian style sofa, or banging her toys on the glass-covered coffee table. And I just couldn't.

I looked to the wide sliding glass doors that led to the backyard; there was a big pool, and further down the terraced yard was a tree-house and a swing set surrounded by fruit trees. And I smiled as I saw myself crystal clear pushing my baby girl on the colorful swing and wondered if Paul and Jane would be okay with me babysitting every once in a while.

Still, I knew I just couldn't verbalize the thought. After all, it was just a thought. It didn't mean anything.

"This is a gorgeous house," I said instead, and Paul immediately offered to give a tour of the house while Jane went to take care of the dinner preparations. Even though I immediately sensed that they're not as rich as the Greys (I know, I'm a Grey too just have to get used to it), they lived comfortably and could afford to hire a live-out housekeeper.

As it turned out, the housekeeper was on her way out the door when we arrived. She and Jane briefly discuss the dinner preparations before Jane promptly disappeared into the kitchen.

"We have five bedrooms upstairs," Paul said as he led the way to the upper story. The narrow stairs, protected only by a very low handrail, were the type where you can see through the stairs and contemplate how high you've ascended. "There's another room downstairs, we normally use it as a guest room...sometimes Molly, our maid uses it during the day, although she doesn't sleep there."

While I listened to Paul going on and on about the various rooms, I wondered why Jane couldn't wait until later to take care of dinner. After all, I was not staying for dinner and this was supposed to be a quick visit. As he briefly opened each bedroom for me to peek inside, I couldn't help but wonder why Paul was the one showing me around and not Jane. I thought she was the one most excited about showing me the baby's room. After all, baby-related things are not usually the kind of thing that men gush about.

"Tada," Paul said, opening the door to the nursery, stepping aside for me to step inside first.

I was in awe. The room was any mother's dream. It was furnished with everything a baby would ever need. A rocking chair in the corner, a tall changing table, and a cute yellow rocking horse on the opposite corner. The crib was white and all over décor was either blue or yellow.

Two of the walls were the color of the sky and the other two were painted bright yellow.

I wondered why they didn't decorate the room in pink.

We've known I was having a girl for many weeks now.

I had a moment of serenity as I stared at the blue sky through the windows. The sun had not gone down yet, and beautiful gray clouds were mixing in with the bright sunshine. I glided over to the window that led to the back yard. Taking in the fantastic panoramic view of their property built upon terraced acres of land, I spotted a horse corral at least an acre down from the house.

I pictured my little girl giggling while feeding apple slices to one of the horses out of the palm of her hand. I was standing right there next to her, except that she couldn't see me or hear me, it was as though I didn't exist. I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head willing the desolate thought away.

"I think any child will be ha-" I trailed off as a sudden contraction surprised me. While I've had some contractions before, this one took the cake in intensity.

"Are you okay?" Paul asked, crossing the distance between us. He towered over me. Paul was a regular looking guy in his mid-forties, nothing noteworthy about him except that at this moment, something about him was making me a tad uneasy.

"I'm fine," I said. "Just...probably from climbing the stairs?"

Paul seemed to relax a little. "Probably Braxton-Hicks contractions. We've read all about them. Lots of women get all panicky and around at the hospital only to be sent home afterward," he paused studying me intently. "You certainly don't want to be one of those women...do you?"

The way he said that sounded kind of funny, but I quickly dismissed the thought. Paul did have a point after all. I've educated myself about hospitals and giving birth. I didn't want to be one of those women that arrive way too early and end up spending forty-eight hours in labor. I wanted to spend as much time as possible at home before going to the hospital. Drawing on past my experiences, hospitals (except for mental hospitals) were to be avoided unless it was literally a situation of life and death.

"There's one more room down the hall," Paul started off toward the doorway and I moved to follow him.

Suddenly, I had to stop. I scrambled to grab the doorknob and let out a loud, "Oh!" while staring down at the pool of water around my feet. "I...I think my water broke! I'm having this baby now!"

Paul dashed over and draped an arm around my shoulders and guided me to sit in the rocking chair.

"I will be right back! I'm calling Jane," he said as he exited the room.

I grabbed the armrests and stayed put. Surely they would be back any minute now; except the clock on the wall kept ticking. Twenty Minutes. Forty minutes. The contractions were getting stronger and I was starting to panic. It crossed my mind to get up and look for them, but I didn't think I could make it down the stairs on my own.

"Paul, Jane!" I called at the top of my lungs, panting through another contraction, wishing I had my phone but it was in my purse, and my purse was downstairs.

Something is wrong, very wrong, and I've never felt more helpless in my entire life. I didn't know what to do. Something bad was about to happen, I was sure.

Suddenly, I heard my mother's voice as though she was standing right next to me.

"_Having a child is a natural experience...I might as well have the baby here than at the sterility of a hospital,"_ Carla said during labor nearly ten years ago. I grimaced as my mind replayed the event. I couldn't believe I had forgotten the details until now. My poor mother ended up being in labor for hours and I was positively terrified. At the time, I didn't understand there were complications, I was only ten and Maria was barely older than a toddler. In the end, mom did end up going to the hospital but she lost the baby. I overheard the nurses say that the baby would have survived if only Carla had arrived at the hospital sooner.

I gritted my teeth as my body felt the jolt of another powerful contraction. These horrible contractions were coming so close together now I barely had time to recover.

I looked around me, paralyzed by fear. As if to punctuate my predicament, the room was now pitch dark.

_OH, God!_

_What on earth is taking them so long!_

Just then, Lightning illuminated the room for just a moment_, exposing all my fears raw. Something bad must have happened. Maybe Paul or Jane suffered a stroke or a heart-attack...or something?_

_Somebody help me, PLEASE!_

**Author's note:**

**Okay, major cliff-hanger. Please don't kill me yet! I promise not to leave you hanging too long, I will be back as soon as I can!**

Many thanks to T Traveller, CTHEWOODS for kindly answering my questions for this chapter, it's really helping. I may be on a roll now (knock on wood)!

Thanks to everyone for your support, greatly appreciated. I do re-read all reviews to keep me going when I 'm stuck, so the more detailed the better, they're like fuel to the engine.

**What do you think will happen next? What's the deal with Jane & Paul?

**What is your favorite part of this chapter?


	18. Chapter 18

Author's note:

**This chapter is dedicated to T Traveller & CTHEWOODS**

* * *

Chapter eighteen

Christian POV

I turned my phone off right well before the judge entered the courtroom and leaned back in my chair. This was just another day in this long drawn battle of continuances; only patience, piety, and persistence would win the fight. After months of running low, things were about to get better. I could feel it in my bones.

Outside, the weather was fair here in Seattle. Other parts of the country weren't' so lucky. Apparently, Elena was flying in from the East coast where an ice storm had caused a state of emergency. Part of me really hoped that she was sitting in her frozen car somewhere on a highway dying of exposure. But I'd never been that lucky.

I looked up just in time to watch Elena and her team of henchmen/lawyers walk in like they owned the place. Next to her was a blonde woman I didn't initially recognize. Searching my memory bank, I realized this must be Elena's daughter Stephanie. I hadn't seen her in years, she looked nothing like Elena or the scrawny kid I remembered. As far as I knew, Stephanie lived abroad, she'd been in away in boarding school most of her life as I recalled.

Throughout the proceedings, the blonde made eye contact with me and smiled. She was proud of her Parisian chic style; she flirted with her wavy hair cascading around her shoulders, her finger winding around a few silky tendrils. Beside her, Elena scowled when she noticed Stephanie checking me out and nudged her with her elbow.

I broke eye contact and I forced myself to focus on the big picture; when this is over, Elena is going to be sorry she ever got her claws on what's rightfully mine. Unfortunately, right now my team was considerably smaller than it would have been if my father hadn't cut me out of his will. I got Taylor and Steinberg and that's about it. As news spread about my financial ruin, Carrick's army of attorneys turned their backs on me, limiting my options.

I looked over at Taylor sitting on the other side of me, nowadays he was more like a friend than a bodyguard. But I wasn't complaining, Taylor was worth his weight in gold.

Beside me, Steinberg shifted in his seat as the plaintiff called their first witness, Dr. Jones, a handwriting expert. Dr. Jones went on to testify that even though many factors that can lead a person to write their signature in different ways, he believed that the signatures matched. It was time for Steinberg to cross-examine the witness.

"Yes, after examining the writing samples of both copies of the will, the older copy plus the recent copy Mr. Carrick signed on his death bed versus the letters provided by Ms. Elena Lincoln, are **definite indicators **that the same person who wrote the letters also signed the two Last Will and Testament documents."

"**Definite indicators**?" Steinberg questioned. "However, you cannot state with any degree of certainty that there's a definite match between the signature in the documents and the letters? Isn't that correct, Dr. Jones?"

"Objection, your honor," the plaintiff protested. "Your honor, absolute certainty of a handwriting expert is not a requirement to be admissible according to _US versus Herrera_ ( 4th circa 1987)".

"Sustained," the judge muttered.

Steinberg nodded and turned to the witness. "Mr. Jones, you testified that there is a **definite** discrepancy in the signatures presented in the letters...is that correct?'

"Yes, but-"

"Very well. Given that the signature of the latest copy of the will is sloppy and markedly different from the other signatures, isn't it entirely possible the Exhibit E was signed under duress?"

"Yes, like I said before, there are several factors that affect the quality of a signature including the pressure put on the paper and flow of the ink. A person would necessarily be more careful writing a signature on their last will as opposed to a FED-EX receipt, for example."

"So...in your professional opinion, is the signature in Exhibit E sloppier and markedly different than the other signatures?"

"Yes...but that is to be expected considering that Mr. Carrick Grey was on his death bed and under the influence of pain killers."

Steinberg smiled. "However, it is your definite testimony that there is a marked difference between the signatures, is it not? It's a yes or no question."

"Yes," Dr. Jones admitted rather reluctantly.

"Is it entirely possible that someone else could have forged the signature since your **definite indicators** are NOT absolute certainty?"

"Well...it's possible but highly unlikely..."

"But it's possible? Again, Dr. Jones, it's a yes or no question."

"Yes, it's possible," Dr. Jones said after a long exhale.

My lips curved into a triumphant smile. This was definitely a win. I couldn't wait to bring the witch down to her knees and recover everything that was rightfully mine. Next, Steinberg was calling a psychological expert to testify as to Carrick's frame of mind when he supposedly signed the document. All we needed was to prove that it was entirely possible that Carrick, even if he indeed signed the document, had no knowledge of what he was signing.

Dr. Flynn, the psychiatrist who had seen Carrick over the years was to testify to the nature of Carrick and Elena's on and off again dysfunctional relationship which spanned several decades. Their relationship was like a cancer that keeps coming back. The bitch was already in the picture when Grace and Carrick adopted me. I recall her playing the role of dutiful friend to my mother and then barely waiting until after her funeral to make a move on Carrick. I don't think my father ever saw through her, not even while on remission. or learned of her involvement with me.

It was going to be hard listening to Dr. Flynn's testimony, especially since I had also been his patient. However, I didn't expect any of my dirty laundry to be aired. Just as Steinberg moved to call Dr. Flynn, the plaintiff called for a continuance which the judge promptly granted.

Later, as I was leaving the courthouse, Stephanie approached me. Elena was nowhere in sight. So predictable. Of course, her mother sent her to spy on me. Classic Elena.

"Christian," Stephanie smiled at me, "long time no see."

My first instinct was to ignore her. But I quickly changed my mind as a new idea started forming in my head.

"Stephanie?" I cocked my head, pretending I wasn't sure. She nodded and smiled.

"Are you free for dinner and catch up on old times?" She paused. "I hope this lawsuit doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"I need to check with my wife," I replied noncommittally. Just how stupid does this woman think I am? I continued walking down the hall with Steinberg and Taylor by my side. Someone else approached Stephanie and she waved at me to wait. Instead of waiting, I kept moving ahead. As I went through the doors and inhaled some fresh air, I remembered to turn on my phone. Twenty thousand notifications popped up. It was then I realized I had missed a bunch of calls from Ana.

* * *

….

Ana POV

When Jane and Paul finally came to my aid, I was in so much pain that tears were streaming down my face. "I need to go to the hospital!" I sobbed. "Help me, HELP ME!" I stood up as best as I could and tried to walk toward them, but another powerful contraction nearly knocked me down. Thankfully, Jane and Paul dashed over and carried me by the arms, one on each side of me.

They took me over to the next room where the bed was unmade and covered with towels. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying on my back on the bed and Jane had eased my dress above my knees. I was beyond caring at this point, I felt as if the pain was bringing me close to the verge of unconsciousness.

"Ana, relax, my dear," Jane said moving over to take a closer look. "Oh, my," she said alarmed at what she saw. "This baby's not waiting!"

Even though she'd said that another couple of hours of agony went by before anything happened.

"Please! Christian...call him, call him!" I told them over and over but they both ignored me. Judging by the way these two were behaving, there was no chance they were calling an ambulance now, let alone notify my husband I was in labor.

"Draw up your knees and push hard into your bottom," Jane instructed me.

I was utterly terrified. "I can't-I can't-" I cried. _Can somebody please save me so that I don't have to do this?_

"Yes, you can! C'mon, Ana, your baby is almost here!" Jane encouraged, "I can see the head now, c'mon, another push!"

I pushed (but only because I had no choice). Jane moved to where the baby's head crowning and started doing something I couldn't understand.

"What's happening?" I panicked.

"We need to wait for the next contraction and then you gotta give the biggest push of all, you understand? You can do this! She's almost here!" Jane asked and I nodded.

It seemed like minutes passed and nothing was happening.

Paul moved to assist in holding my legs while Jane positioned herself to deliver the baby.

"Push, Ana, PUSH!"

As I began to bear down again, clutching the sheets into a tight fist, the sound of thunder rolled above our heads and the lights flickered on and off. At last, I felt the baby begin to emerge and in the next blink, I caught sight of the umbilical cord being cut.

"Where's my baby?" I asked breathlessly. Using all the strength I could muster, I propped myself up on one elbow. "Is...is there something wrong?"

Jane turned her back to me. I caught a glimpse of her holding the limp body of my little girl by the feet.

Deafening silence. Why isn't she crying?

"C'mon, baby, time to breathe!" I heard Paul say. He positioned himself in such a way that I couldn't' get a good view of the baby.

"I want to see her!" I cried.

"It's best this way, it will make the separation easier on you," Paul to glance at me over his shoulder. "We're going to put the baby on some oxygen so she can start breathing."

While Jane continued to minister to the baby, Paul went to get a vial and a syringe. Before I even had the chance to breathe, he surprised me by pushing the syringe into my arm.

"OUCH!?" I screamed, rubbing my arm, stunned.

"Just something that will help you rest my dear," Paul said with a weird smile.

What happened next was a lot like watching a movie with frames missing. My brain scrambled at a different speed and lost track of time. I drifted in and out of consciousness; the temptation to just simply lie there and fall into a deeper sleep was overwhelming.

_I have a secret for you, baby, _my mom used to whisper to me back when things were okay. When daddy was still alive. When she still tucked me at night, when she took care of me instead of the other way around. _I'm not really your mom, your real mom was a mermaid,_ she'd say, knowing I'd dream about it that night, the soft coolness of the deep water, the castles under the sea.

When I woke up hours later ( or so it seemed) I felt weak, drenched in sweat, and drowsy. Jane was sitting beside me with a somber expression.

"Where is she?" I asked, scrambling to my elbows. "My baby? Where's my baby!?"

Jane shook her head. "I'm sorry, but she didn't make it."

"Wh-what?" I wailed, bending over in an effort to sit up straight. Everything inside me ached like I've been run over by a semi-truck. "NO! NO!"

"She was just too early...at thirty-four weeks old her lungs were insufficiently developed...poor thing!" She said shaking her head.

I plopped back down into the pillow and screamed. Oh, God! She was dead! NO! NO! Clearly, this was my punishment for wanting to give her away.

"I want to see her!" I sobbed. "I want to hold her!"

"No, Ana, I don't think that's a good idea," Paul said. At one point he must have come back into the room or he'd been there all along, I wasn't sure.

With a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, I pleaded with them to let me see my baby but they adamantly refused. I asked them to please call the hospital and Christian and let them know what happened. Maybe my baby wasn't dead and there was still something the doctors could still do for her.

After a while, I tried to sit up again but couldn't. I scarcely had the energy to grieve the loss of the sweet child I had carried for eight months. My last thought before the world went black was that God was punishing me, I deserved all of this and more.

_Somehow, I managed to stagger downstairs and made a beeline for the couch where I remembered setting my purse, knowing I only had seconds to spare. They were coming after me any minute now. Paul and Jane had abducted me, I was convinced. What's more, they'd hidden my baby somewhere; even though it didn't really make sense, even though the adoption papers were already drawn and I was giving them the baby legally. For some unfathomable reason, they were doing this to me. _

_I stared incredulously at the spot where my purse should have been. My eyes scanned the room wildly but I couldn't find my purse anywhere. _

_I continued to wander through the house, looking for a landline, and stumble into the kitchen. There was a huge spread of food worthy of a wedding-a cheese plate, piles of fruit, crackers, fancy cured meats. It was mine, all of it. The mermaid queen in her castle. I selected several pieces of cheese and some meat, taking a handful with me._

_Once I was convinced there wasn't a soul in the house, I sprinted outside down the rain-slicked road. I had no idea where I'd go or how I would get a phone, but I just knew I couldn't go back there. _

_I wanted to jump the bridge that separated this land from the sea of impossible choices. _

_I've always loved the beach at night, mom used to tell me right before bed. According to her, my mermaid family had dropped me off when I was a baby before I had a chance to grow my tail. It was a bedtime story, yes. But I always sort of believed it a little. Just a tiny sliver, anyway. That if I just did everything right, one day my mermaid family would come back for me. _

_The sun started shining over the horizon. Out in the distance, I heard my baby's cries. YES! She was alive, she was alive! I ran back to the house and climbed the narrow staircase two steps at a time. Through blurry eyes, I saw the landing halfway down. My balance shifted and held onto the banister for dear life, sidestepping to avoid the obstacle in my way. This was impossible. My notebook from 5th grade filled with sketches I had doodled, mermaid tails and hearts and musical notes. How it got here I have no idea, I lost it years ago. Instead of reaching for it, I stepped on a random page and watched it fall through the slats and felt numb. It didn't have to be this way; I didn't have to become a mermaid permanently, I could use my trident to disintegrate the wall that separated my new home from the sea so we could all be together forever. _

_Christian and I... and the baby. _

_Mermaids exist. There are parts of the ocean that no human has ever explored. Why can't there be mermaids that live there, flicking their tails at the stars? They aren't afraid to enter the castle under the sea, play their magical harps, and unlock all their secrets and take them to a better place. To a happily-ever-after. Those mermaids are not the mermaids of fairy tales. They are smarter. They make the right choices. They swim through all the obstacles and claim their daughters. _

_I followed my daughter's cries and headed straight for the yellow-blue walled nursery and peaked inside the crib. I smiled brightly. My sweet baby was wrapped in a yellow receiving blanket, wearing a blue knit hat. I lifted her into my arms, counted all fingers and toes. How silly of me. I threw my head back and laughed. Of course, she had no tail; mermaids don't really exist. With a big sigh of relief, I held her tight against my chest and cried tears of sheer delight, bliss, and profound joy._

**Author's note:**

To be continued ASAP.

In the meantime, do you feel like playing GUESS WHO?

**POLL: Who is Carrick's long-lost daughter? VOTE FOR ONE**

**1) Ana**

**2) Stephanie**

**3) Jane**

**4) None of the above. She hasn't made an appearance yet.**

I've left a few clues in these last two chapters, see you soon!


	19. Chapter 19

NOTE: In Ana's homeland, students go to high school right out of elementary school. There are five years of high school instead of four and no middle school. Grades are given on anumeric on a scale of 0-20 points and where 10 is the passing grade. Students are allowed to retake final exams from the previous school year while taking their current grade courses.

* * *

…

_Updated story description:_

**Ana becomes a modern mail-order bride to escape a life of poverty, hoping to start a new life. But then a mistake from her past appears like a thief in the night, standing in the way of her new beginning. NO Christian or Ana deaths, HEA**

Chapter nineteen~~~**trauma trigger warning**

The day after I turned fifteen, _señor_ Ramon, our Biology teacher came to sit with us girls. He was reasonably attractive and we were beyond flattered that he'd taken an interest in us. It soon became evident how committed he was to our sexual education. At first, he started candid conversations about the process of giving birth. Naturally, all of us girls including me acted shy and embarrassed.

"My mom told me babies came out of your belly button," Marlene laughed nervously and the rest of us girls joined her.

"A baby doesn't actually come out through the belly of the mother," _Señor_ Ramon told us with a calculating smile.

Of course, I knew that. I had witnessed my baby brother being born, the one that died at birth.

"Okay, but then...Out of what hole?" Reina said looking down at her hands and giving our teacher a furtive glance.

"The baby hole, of course," Miriam said confidently, daring to make full eye-contact with the teacher. It was evident how much she trusted him not only as her teacher but as a friend.

Once he thought he gained our complete trust, he started' enhancing' his lessons to include very graphic pictures of the female anatomy. We kept our heads low, we half-dreaded these 'lessons' but we were stuck.

While the boys were busy experimenting with microscopes, we girls listened captivated to our teacher's VERY graphic account of the sexual act between a man and a woman, leaving nothing to the imagination. Our personal boundaries were being molded, trampled, and squashed, and we had no idea what to do. He was the sculptor, and we were the clay; he was constantly shaping, dissolving, and redefining us.

"This is the clitoris, the area that when properly stimulated creates a heightened form of pleasure called an orgasm," he told us while showing us a picture of the underlying structures of the clitoral complex. He then when on to tell us a little about the differences between the vagina opening and the other openings. Although we were captivated, we kept our eyes glued on the page. "The clitoral glands are highly sensitive. Many women when they touch themselves there they avoid this area right here which can produce extremely intense pleasure..."

"Too intense?" Alcira whispered, keeping her head down. We all held our breaths in expectation. We were insanely curious but also shocked beyond our wildest dreams.

"Yes. Females can experience rocking orgasms when the male partner stimulates the area with his tongue or the flicker of a finger. Some women enjoy the type of sharp sweet pain that can occur when her partner gently bites the clitoris with his teeth, just the right amount of grazing can send her over the edge, making her body convulse uncontrollably," he went on, leaning forward like an other-worldly predator, his gaze more intense with each word, enjoying the intense blush on our faces.

While_ Señor_ Ramon was momentarily distracted showing the boys how to work their telescopes, we girls had stayed frozen in place, irreversibly hooked until he returned to our table. Eve's first mistake was not eating the fruit, but listening to the snake in the first place.

"Now that you girls know the truth, I would hope you'd be smart. And not just let any boy fill that _hole_...you know what I mean? Your first time should be with a real man that knows how to pleasure a woman."

From that day forward, we continued to listen to our sex education lessons with half-fascinated, half-disgusted interest, not realizing we were like sheep being led to the slaughterhouse.

One day as I was walking down the hallway, Señor Ramon stopped me. He was at least three decades my senior but he carried himself like a man twenty years younger.

"Ana, I want to see you in the classroom on Monday twenty minutes before class starts," he told me with a smirk, getting too close for comfort. We were in a hallway just the two of us. I stepped back in shock, his intentions were as clear as day.

"Si, Señor," I answered. As I moved to get past him but he grabbed my arm.

"Ramon, call me Ramon."

In Spanish, the second pronoun has two forms, formal and informal. You were supposed to use the formal pronoun at all times when addressing a teacher but he'd dropped this requirement with us girls, encouraging us to call him by his first name practically from day one. His behavior left us baffled, intrigued, curious.

When I told Alcira about the encounter in the hallway, she murmured, "...Miriam me dijo que el le prometio veinte puntos, ( he promised Miriam an A)."

I certainly wasn't going to fall into that trap. Ramon could proposition me all he wanted, I simply wasn't going to accept. And so I avoided him as much as I could citing every excuse in the books for the next couple of weeks. This made him furious, I could feel it every time he looked at me.

Because of our sort of nomadic lifestyle, I ended up switching schools two more times that year (I never stayed in one place long enough to establish lasting connections). By the time the end of the school year rolled around, a cruel twist of fate placed me once again in Ramon's biology class. Either he taught at different schools or switched around like me, I never knew.

I walked into the classroom and looked around me. In most schools, boys outnumbered girls in the science or college career track. And so, there were only six girls and thirty-seven boys enrolled in Biology at my current school. Most girls enrolled in the language arts track, also known as the trade school track. Most girls weren't like me, most girls had some kind of stability in their lives. Most girls partied and dressed in nice clothes, most would never dream of studying old editions of their textbooks as the best way to spend their summer.

I made eye contact with each one of the girls at my table, and I knew from their varying expressions that these girls had also experienced the same special treatment as the other girls at my former school.

I was stuck. There was no time to switch schools so late in the school year. I stayed in the class, hoping to pass Biology. Getting an education was my only hope, it's my ticket out of poverty, the only hope for a better life.

That same week, Ramon agreed I could retake a test I had failed because I didn't have time to study that week with all the household chores and taking care of mom and Maria.

"_Es tu turno con el profe_," Lucia snickered when it was clear that I was the only one retaking the test. Translation: it's your turn with the teacher. we've all gone through this, and so should you.

The other girls looked at me with a mixture of scorn, pity, and envy. They formed a tight-knit group from which I was clearly being excluded.

"Here," Ramon mumbled as he handed me my makeup essay exam the next day. "Take your time," he added from behind his desk.

While I worked diligently, Ramon moved silently to close the windows and lock the door, catching me almost unaware. I looked up from my paper and a shiver ran down my spine. Was he about to proposition me? I hoped against all hope there was still a chance for me.

God, please. I need to pass Biology, I'm so close now, next week is finals week. Also, help me to tactfully reject him.

I worked diligently until sundown. By the time I was done, everyone had left the school, including the janitors. I placed my test on his desk and got ready to leave. I was dead tired, I had stayed up most the night studying.

"There was no need for you to work so hard, I'll give you full credit. But first, I'm going to fill your _hole_, _mamacita," _he said suddenly pinning me against the wall. "Oh, yes, until you're beggin' for more."

His breath made me gag; it reeked of beer. I wanted to cry but crying wasn't going to get me out of this. The light shining through the windows cast a shadow over his face, pure evil etched on every feature. He clawed and grabbed very personal parts of my body as he overpowered me. All I could do was close my eyes and suck it up. I was stunned as hell though. The disgusting pig was touching me in ways I hadn't been touched before. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. Not me.

The little mermaid Ariel yearns to join the human world that her father had forbidden her to enter. But she fell in love with the prince and trades her voice for a pair of legs. Enter the sea witch and a fierce sea battle occurs. In the end, the witch is destroyed and King Titon blesses Ariel's wedding to the prince. I sure wish I could skip directly to my happily ever after but unfortunately, this is the time for battle.

Sorry about that but my mind had to travel somewhere to escape the reality of what was happening right now.

I opened my eyes I was staring at the ceiling. The pig had turned me on my back. The bastard was only moments from being inside me. I had to do something fast.

I was clawing my fingernails into the concrete floor, moving lawyers of dust. It was revolting. A woman with dirty, chipped fingernails was so utterly disgusting to me. Without giving it another thought, I clawed at his face and he smacked hard me in response.

"I have AIDS, I have AIDS," I sobbed. It was the first thing that popped into my head; he'd just given us a drawn-out lecture about AIDS.

"Wh—what?" Ramon pulled back utterly disgusted and freaked out. He was such a freak about germs and diseases.

"My mama," I cried. "Her boyfriend dirty has syringes...I... I didn't mean to," I cried. I was trembling. I must have sounded convincing, the half-truths. I never tried drugs or engaged in risky behavior. Usually, I was good at making myself scarce when the boyfriends came around and started treating me like eye candy. Once, I made sure not to come back until I learned that mama had been hospitalized once again after she had attempted to kill herself.

Before the bastard had a chance to react, I fixed my clothes, grabbed my backpack, and ran as fast as my legs could carry me.

Finals week came and went, and I failed both Biology and Geometry. I was absent the day of the final since Ramon was going to be there. I switched schools again the following school year and my last chance to retake the finals was in December; if I failed the exams I would be held back a year. I studied until late every single night. These finals were next to impossible to pass, the questions were all essay format; teachers usually made them ten times harder to punish us for not passing the first time. Needless to say, it was a tough academic load to carry as I also needed to keep up on top of my regular course load.

Against all odds, however, I ended up passing the finals and the rest of my classes with flying colors. It was a small miracle indeed.

….

Two years later, by sheer luck, I found myself at the top of my class. This was the year I was graduating from high school and the stakes were high. It was stressful, focusing on school while struggling to survive. Most days, we didn't have enough food on the table except when Jose dropped by with a bag of groceries.

Jose was the only boyfriend I ever had; I'd like to think we were engaged although he hadn't given me a ring yet. He'd promised he would marry me after I told him I was saving myself for marriage. We needed to wait a little while for the wedding though, as he just was trying to build a nest egg. And I believed was smart, he made good money working an office job in a big company, so much that he often joked that once I became his wife I wouldn't need to work. He didn't see the point in me going to school. Even though I trusted his judgment, I told him again, and again I couldn't just quit school. It was my backup plan.

One day, toward the end of the school year, my homeroom teacher Luisa Rodriguez called me to stay after class. She taught English as a foreign language with a mild Spanish accent.

"Anastasia, you're my top student, I'm so proud to have you in my class," she stated in Spanish. "You have a bright future ahead of you, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. As a matter of fact, I'm offering you a paid position as my teaching assistant in September."

I couldn't believe my luck, especially when she mentioned how much I could expect to earn as a teaching assistant.

"Ana, don't sell yourself short," she told me in response to my self-deprecating statements. "And since your graduating with good grades, the only requirement is that you continue to pursue your education. You've already submitted your application to the university, right?"

"I did, _señora, _thank you."

"I'm sure you will get in," she replied confidently. "I personally put in a word for you."

My heart swelled. It was common knowledge that getting into this particular university wasn't about grades, but mostly a matter of who recommended you, and the right connections. If I could get in, my future was set, it was my ticket out of poverty, the fate that followed me since the day daddy passed away.

"Thank you, thank you," I was so touched, my eyes filled with unshed tears.

She suddenly furrowed her brow. "The only thing though, don't let anything stand in the way of graduating, Ana."

Yes, I was so close. And yet so far.

I had aspirations besides becoming a wife and mother, I wanted to become a teacher one day. But it wasn't meant to be. I wouldn't be coming back for the finals. I had already made arrangements to move to the country with some relatives of Jose. The arrangement was temporary but I was grateful. Doing a few household chores was the least I could do for a place for me and my sister to stay. I was at a crossroads at this point, and I saw no way out but to give up my dreams.

I was scared. Ramon had weaseled his way into my life once again. For the past week, he'd been stalking me, making me paranoid with worry. The man was crazy. I was an easy target I suppose, and he hated me; in his mind, I was the one that got away.

"And when I mean don't let anything get in your way, I mean taking care of yourself, Ana, you know what I mean?" She eyed me critically. "This is not the time in your life to get pregnant. It will ruin your chances both at as my teaching assistant and the University. It's a firm policy, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that.." She paused meaningfully. "Do I? You're a smart girl." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You have no idea how many girls have sat in your position over the years. Every single one wasted the opportunity...they don't seem to get it. As females, we have to work twice as hard and we're the ones to end up with the short end of the stick... you know what I mean?."

I said nothing, I simply nodded. Many of us didn't really have a choice here. Just ask any of the girls in Ramon's Biology class. As for me, I could already feel the pain of doors closing. I shuddered thinking about the future that awaited Maria when she started high school.

"Those girls had a bright future ahead of them...such a shame they couldn't keep their legs closed," my teacher said, once again shaking her head with disdain.

Again, easy for her to say. _Try walking in my shoes._

"My boyfriend and I are being careful," I said at last. This wasn't a lie. And while I wasn't a virgin, I was doing my best to avoid getting in trouble. Jose was pulling out every time. Besides that, just to be on the safe side, I was also using the Rhythm method because it was the only method that was both free of charge and approved by the Pope. So no chances of getting pregnant, I thought. "Jose and I are getting married next year," I told her confidently.

My teacher shook her head in disapproval. "That's not good either. I hope you understand that once you get married you can say good-bye to getting a degree or any future career.."

"I know it would be hard managing a home and school... but I can do it," I told her in no uncertain terms. I was a master at getting by on very little sleep. And I still managed to get good grades despite all the chaos in my life.

"That, my dear, is a pipe dream," she said resolutely. "Once you get married, you start having children and you will have no time, trust me. It's the same story over and over again. Same with the pregnancy story...it happens several times every school year," she went on and sighed as if suddenly bored. "You would think ALL girls would have read the script by now. It never changes, year after year. I for one would like to see some variation," she added in a superior, critical tone.

"That's not going to happen to me," I murmured. My life was going to be different, I was going to be somebody. "My boyfriend and I are using contraception," I mumbled, barely making eye contact. This was conversation was embarrassing enough. But this woman was my mentor and I still wanted her to think the best of me. Of course, it wasn't until a long time after that I learned first hand that my choice of birth control was a sorry failure.

"I hope so, Ana," she gave me a long proving look. "Abstinence, however, is the only fool-proof method," she paused to gather the papers on her desk. While I mulled over her words, she looked at her watch. "See you on Monday. Good luck on your exams," she looked up at me and smiled politely, ready to dismiss me.

_Ana, say something, say something!_

_Maybe she could help you if you told her. _

_No, no one can help. Least of all her. She has a nice home, a nice upbringing, and probably didn't miss a day of school to take care of her family. She would never understand. _

"Thank you," I said swallowing the lump in my throat. "Thank you," I reiterated even though I knew I wouldn't be back. Ever since Ramon had found me, he'd been following me to and from school. Even though he wasn't my teacher anymore, he had the power to terrorize me. I've had no peace, worried sick that next time I wouldn't be as lucky to escape. Just this morning I narrowly escaped the pervert's clutches; now more than ever, I was convinced it was just a matter of time before he violated me.

I was the unluckiest girl in the world, I thought. No one could help me. I had no one in my life who cared whether or not I finished school and no one that understood. Maybe if I had a friend at school who could walk me home. But I had no one, I was never in a school long enough to form any lasting friendships.

And that was my last day at school. It wasn't much of a happy ending; even though I managed to escape Ramon's clutches, I never got to graduate. And Jose never followed through on his promises, he kept postponing the wedding for one reason or another...and then he got himself arrested. And that was the end of that.

When I was a little girl, my dreams had always consisted of mermaids and castles and being rescued by a handsome prince. Sometimes (well into the future), they also included a baby to showcase I was the best mother who ever lived.

I no longer believe in fairy tales. After I lost my chance to graduate, survival became my focus...taking care of myself and my sister, only to do it all over again the next day. I know I made many mistakes since that day. Big ones. Except for Christian. The minute our eyes met, through a computer screen, I knew I could trust him. The eyes being the window to the soul is more than just poetry; the second his eyes met mine, I knew he wasn't like any man I knew. He was special, he was a keeper, he would never do me harm. And even though I had some initial reservations those early days after we got married, I soon knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'd made the right decision in marrying him. Loving him was the only decision I'll never regret. He's my life, my everything.

Oh, Christian...PLEASE! I need you here with me right now. Without you, there's only a dreadful abyss of nothingness.

Where are you? Where are you?

…


	20. Chapter 20

_When you get to a place where you understand that love and belonging,_

_ your worthiness, is a birthright and not something you have to earn,_

_ anything is possible._

Brene Brown

* * *

Chapter twenty

Christian POV

7:30 p.m

Back at the courthouse, listening to Ana's voicemails didn't raise any red flags. She'd assured me she would be home by seven. However, she was late, and my wife was never late.

Shortly after Taylor and I got home, Gail confirmed what Ana had said in her voice message. After her doctor's appointment, Jane and Paul had given her a ride to their place. Naturally, I called them. I left many voicemails, but they didn't bother to return my calls. I shook my head in bewilderment, wishing I'd taken the time to get to know these people, know where they live. But in truth, I'd taken very little interest in anything having to do with the baby.

Gail had prepared a nice, three-course meal. I had barely tried the appetizers when my appetite completely vanished. I knew by then for sure that something was VERY wrong.

9:00 p.m.

"That's probably not even their last name," Taylor murmured, hanging up the phone in defeat. He'd been calling every number in the phone book listed under the last name of Buchanan, trying to find a landline phone number for these people.

I ran a hand over my hair and held my head. It suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. My wife was missing, and it was all my fault I had no way of tracking her whereabouts. I was a selfish prick and a moron to boot. I'd purchased the cheapest phone service plan for my wife in the hope of preventing her ex from contacting her...or her from contacting him. I might as well shoot myself in the foot for this.

12:34 a.m.

Taylor and I drove down to the police station. I was livid when a moron at the police station informed me that I had to wait twenty-four hours to file a missing person's report. I clenched my fists, I wanted to grab the officer by the shirt collar. Beside me,Taylor set his hand on my shoulder. He reminded me that there was still much we could do. Even though we'd already contacted everyone that knew my wife, we still had other options.

2:00 a.m

Retracing my wife's steps, we know for a fact that Ana left with Gail for her doctor's appointment in a taxi. After that, Jane and Paul had given her a ride supposedly to visit their home. What happened after that was anybody's guess.

Next, we continued to call every cab company within a two hundred-mile radius. We were able to locate the driver that had given her the ride to the clinic. But there were no other records of any other destinations. I deeply regretted I'd discouraged Ana from learning how to drive. Locating her would be a lot easier if she'd been driving her own vehicle.

When we got to the penthouse, and I plopped on the couch and buried my head between my hands. Taylor suggested I get some sleep.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" I yelled at him as if it was his fault. "There's no way I can sleep knowing my wife is missing!"

Taylor shook his head and made himself scarce. He didn't appreciate being yelled at.

Once again, I buried my head between my hands. When I looked up again, Gail was standing right there, looking pale and blaming herself.

"I'm sorry, Christian. I should have..." she trailed off and started speaking again, but my mind barely registered a word she said. In my mind's eye, I had a vision of my Ana in a horrible car accident. That was the only explanation as to why she or the people she was with weren't answering their phones.

7:00 a.m

I didn't sleep a wink all night, glued to the same spot on the couch. Numbing dread paralyzed my brain and limbs, I cannot shake the idea of Ana being involved in a car accident. All night long, I'd wanted to call all hospitals in the area to see if they'd recently admitted anyone matching Ana's description. But the mere thought of my greatest fear becoming in the middle of the night was horrifying, it felt safer to wait until morning.

Taylor and Gail came in, a flood of sunshine pouring in behind them, making me blink with their brightness. Gail mothered me with some coffee and tray filled with food. But my stomach's tied up in knots, so I refused. She knew better than to insist, she knew my moods, she'd practically raised me. I had to admit, I did find a small measure of comfort in her mothering. It made me notice for a moment, her concern, and the deep shadows beneath her eyes. And I was quick to reassure her that I did not blame her in the least for not staying with Ana after her appointment.

Three hours later, Taylor and I returned to the police station, after having exhausted all the possibilities.

"Did your wife have any...ever mention a particular male friend?" the detective suggested, rubbing his chin.

I was literally shaking with anger. Wanting to grab the man by the shirt collar, I tried to shift past Taylor, but he blocked me, obviously reading my mind.

By the time we get back into the car, my anxiety over Ana's whereabouts has escalated to the point that I was breathing heavily.

I vow to myself that I will be a better husband... if only I would get another chance to show her how much I love her.

….

1:00 p.m.

I was sitting in the car outside the police station when my phone rang in my pocket, startling me.

"Ana?!"

My heart skipped a beat the second I realized it wasn't Ana on the other end of the line. It was a robotic voice reciting an address twice. I motioned for Taylor to get me pen and paper. He immediately handed me a sticky note pad and something to write with.

Needless to say, we drove to address in question, my heart in my throat. Unfortunately, my active imagination went on overdrive. I imagined the worst, finding my beloved wife dead.

A million years passed, or so it seemed. Taylor parked the vehicle after driving up a steep incline. This place was so isolated, my mind was already conjuring up a scene in one of those morbid horror movies I watched as a teenager.

It didn't matter which, the key was always placing the unsuspecting victim in a conveniently remote location.

As soon as he turned off the engine, Taylor scampered to the front door of the house. I unfastened my seat belt, ready to follow suit. But all of a sudden, it was as if I'd been sucked into a dark tunnel. My mind was floating, and yet my body was glued to my seat. My heightened senses picked up an eerie dimension of silence. Perhaps, the worst was how my life suddenly lost its color, and everything around me turned shockingly gray.

The same thoughts kept circling in my head. Ana was dead, I was sure. She'd perished in captivity, that's why they never called for ransom. The mother fuckers abandoned ship when they realized that my real net worth these days was closer to nothing.

I might as well face it. Ana was dead. She was dead because of me, I couldn't even get out of this fucking car and save her. Further proof that was worthless, useless. At least that's what she used to say. Ella. I couldn't even save HER! All I had to do was pick up the phone and call 911. But I didn't call until she was half-dead.

_Ella is not moving. She's dead, the grownups in the ambulance tell me. I'm not sure what they mean. Why doesn't she talk to me? Ella? She never wants me to call her mommy, only Ella. I was the only one there when she got sick, but I couldn't help her get better. I 'm bad, very bad, and I need to be punished. Ella says I bother her too much, I cry too much. Sometimes she hits me with a belt so I can be good again. I wish now she would wake up and punish me, but she's not moving at all, and that REALLY scares me. _

Stop it, Grey, this is just a panic attack, get a grip!

My heart hammered inside my chest, I couldn't catch my breath, I gripped my seat as everything around me started spinning, jerking around from side to side like tidal waves.

This has to stop!

I desperately forced myself to take a deep breath. And then another. I shout Taylor's name so that he waits for me. But, he was long gone. He'd long since knocked down the door, and disappeared into the house.

FUCK! I cursed in frustration. DAMMIT, I wanted to be the one to go into the house first. I'm beyond angry. I was so furious, I punched myself in the face. And then again. For a second there, it felt justified, I had punched myself in my worthless face.

She was the worthless one, not me, I thought as I stepped outside the vehicle. She was a worthless addict, she didn't deserve my compassion. She often neglected to feed me, left me to my own devices, she only cared about her next fix. So why on earth was I thinking about her right now?

Ana. I should be thinking about Ana.

Taylor's voice was like a beacon guiding my way through the house. Fueled by adrenaline, my legs felt like iron as I climbed the stairs two at a time and burst into the room.

His voice again thundered through my jumbled thoughts, commanding my attention.

"I already called 911, they're on their way!" In the next breath, he informed me that he'd checked, and there was no one else in the house.

My eyes zeroed in on Ana's semi-conscious figure lying on the bed. When finally I lifted her into my arms, her arms came sloppily around my neck, falling like broken pieces of stick candy. And when I lifted her face to look into her eyes, she stared up at me in confusion.

"Oh, Christian! There was a mermaid," she told me, her voice hoarse, small and slurred. "Mermaid," she repeated as though this was important for me to know. Her eyes fluttered, and she lost consciousness again.

The paramedics arrived in a whirlwind of activity. Ana regained consciousness after we arrived at the hospital. I blinked and lost track of time passing, I was just there holding her hand, shifting positions from time to time. I stared at her stupidly when she started asking about the baby. It wasn't until then that it dawned on me she was no longer pregnant.

In bits and pieces, I pieced together the sequence of events following yesterday's doctor's appointment. I felt a massive thump in my stomach when I realized the baby was gone. After all these months, my wish had become true except, I was far from happy. I took both of her hands in my mine and squeezed them. I told her everything was going to be alright.

I didn't know what else I could do. All I knew was that I was never, ever going to let anything bad happen to her again. From this day forward, I was going to be a much better husband and make up for my failure to protect her.

_Now I am good._ _My new mommy says I'm good...very good. _

I was both physically and mentally exhausted. Yet, at the same time, the burning feeling in my chest started to melt away as I listened to the doctor's report on Ana's condition. She was going to be just fine, he told me, she was just under the influence of a powerful sedative. As a precaution, however, she would need to stay in the hospital the recommended amount of time for most women after giving birth. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Silence. The doctor and I exchanged a look.

"Where's my baby?" She asked softly.

"Yes?" The doctor said. He gazed at her with a kind expression.

"Doctor," Ana said, her eyes probing and alert.

"My baby," she repeated, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

The doctor exhaled. "I'm sorry," he shook his head sadly.

"Noooo! My baby is alive, she's alive! They took her!" Ana insisted, bursting into tears.

"Take heart, dear, all will be well," the doctor muttered with a pained expression.

"No...ooo ...I just want my baby! find her," she turned to me with pleading eyes. "Help me find her, Christian!'

I immediately went to her side and held her tight against my chest. If Ana believed the baby was alive, then I wholeheartedly believed her.

"I want my ba...by...my baby...my baby," she sobbed on my shoulder.

There was so much anxiety and pain in her voice, I felt the air constricting with shock and grief. I stroked her hair and kissed the back of her head, wanting more than anything to ease her pain. But she was sobbing too hard, and I felt freaking impotent, unable to ease her pain.

"We're gonna find her," I promised her. Yes, I was going to find her even if it was the last thing I did, I promised myself because Ana's happiness mattered to me more than anything.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter twenty-one

Gail POV

I heard the wind howling and looked out the window. Sleet dashed against the sidewalk below. My mind, adrift, recalled as if were yesterday that major blizzard twenty-three years ago in Colorado. It dumped snow that, thanks to the wind, drifted to twenty feet in some places. No one had expected the baby to come early, least of all Mr. Grey. Otherwise, he wouldn't have agreed to stay behind. I followed the developments closely, glued to the TV, praying. I always wondered if things would have been different if I'd been there.

"Hey," Jason murmured, wrapping his arms around me. "Coffee's ready."

"Thank you, Honey," I replied, relaxing into his arms, enjoying the quietness of this moment to ourselves. Jason and I have been officially together for the past couple of months. Personally, I'd never been happier. "What time are you leaving this morning?"

"Not sure. Today, I was supposed to be driving Christian to meet with Ms. Lincoln's daughter's Stephanie...but now, with everything that's happened...I don't expect him to want to leave Ana's side," he paused and looked out the window. "It looks as though it would be best if we stay put this morning."

I nodded and glanced at the clock, letting out a long exhale. It was well past ten, and as far as I could tell, we were the only ones up and about.

"Why? Why does Christian want to meet with that woman?" I asked. As far as I knew (often, the housekeeper knows it all), Christian didn't really know Elena's daughter that well. They'd seen each other in passing over the years, and that was it.

"He's hoping Stephanie Lincoln can provide us some intel about her mother's business," Jason replied vaguely, moving away from the window. "Your Coffee's gonna get cold. Let me go get us some," he added, gliding toward the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later with two steaming full-sized cups.

"Here you go," Jason handed me a cup, and I sighed in appreciation. We both took a sip and gazed into each other's eyes, relishing the moment.

"Do you think it's a good idea for Christian to meet with that woman?" I reiterated. "Her loyalties lie with her mother. How does he expect to change that?"

"Christian knows a thing or two about Stephanie's checkered past," Jason smiled. "It's worth a shot."

It wasn't until a little past noon when Christian sauntered into the kitchen. He said good morning, and I asked him how Ana was doing.

"She's still resting," he perched on a stool at the kitchen island, putting his face in his hands. He looked zombie tired, and my heart went out to both of them. This had to be the hardest thing, the not knowing. "Ana was awake most of the night, it wasn't until past six in the morning when she finally fell asleep."

"Poor thing," I replied while busied myself fixing him a cup of coffee just how he liked it. I made a fresh pot while he waited in silence, drumming his fingers on the shiny granite.

"It's hard seeing her like this," he went on with a heart-wrenching expression. I brought over his coffee, and he took a sip. "She thinks she will ever be happy again...not until she gets her baby back." He didn't speak again until after he'd taken a few more sips. "It's as if she doesn't even remember wanting to give her up in the first place."

"What Ana is going through is perfectly natural," I told him, taking a seat across from him. "She's been torn about this decision from the start. Giving up a child for adoption is the hardest decision any parent ever makes," I told him. "There's bound to be conflicted feelings and a great deal of sorrow... especially for a woman. Society places tremendous pressure on us women...often labeling giving a child up for adoption as an act of abandonment rather than an act of love. To make matters worse, as women, we often can't separate our identity from our role as mothers and caregivers." I paused. Even though I had never given birth, I was speaking from experience. I loved Christian as if he was my own flesh and blood.

"Poor Ana," I went on. "I imagine she's also feeling guilty about the people she chose to adopt her baby."

"They looked good on paper," Christian said vaguely. He leaned his head on the kitchen counter and closed his eyes for a moment. "I called Barney. I'm sorry I let him go," he opened his eyes and straightened in his seat. "But I really thought we could no longer afford it." He let out a long exhale before continuing.

I thought about what we knew about them. Supposedly, Paul was a freelancing architect, and Jane, a housewife who'd been trying to conceive for a number of years.

"Even though Ana had already signed the adoption papers, they're not getting away with this. We've already filed an emergency order to revoke this. They'll be stopped at the airport if they so much as try to leave the country."

I thought about this for a long moment. "They sure fooled me with their charm. Come to think of it, there's one thing that didn't quite add up. Jane said she was thirty-three, but she always looked much younger than that..." Yep, only Jennifer Aniston could pull a trick like that.

Christian cocked his head thoughtfully.

"I don't know exactly how I feel about the baby," he confided, suddenly changing the subject. "I really wasn't...it's been crazy. Ana changing her mind...those people stealing the baby for no reason." He paused. When he spoke again, his voice carried determination and decisiveness. "But once we find her, I'm going to adopt her as my own. I would be doing it for her, for Ana. I hope that's good enough."

I nodded in full agreement. ""That sounds good."

He shrugged his shoulders and exhaled. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to love this child as my own, but I will try."

I smiled at him. "I think the baby will have you wrapped around her little finger the moment you decide to open your heart and give her a chance."

"Well, one thing is for sure," he started in a lighthearted tone. "Parenting can't be that hard, can it? Like dad used to say, children are to be seen but not to be heard."

I took all that to mean Christian was trying to ease his own fears about being a good father.

"What if I adopted that philosophy when you were growing up?" I chuckled, and he smiled back for the first time today. "Like Dr. Dobson used to say, parenting isn't for cowards...but I have no doubt you'll make a great father, Christian."

"Uh-huh," he hummed with a soulful expression. I cherished the moment; it wasn't every day that Christian opened up like this. "Carrick was a good father...I just hope I can be half as good as him."

I nodded in sympathy. "Your father wanted a house full of children. He was so happy that year he adopted you. And then, after so many years of battling infertility, your mother got pregnant. It was a true miracle, " I sighed, pausing to gather my thoughts. "As you can imagine, he was beside himself when your mother passed. He assumed his feelings were permanent," I trailed off thoughtfully, thinking about Carrick Grey's decision to give up his infant daughter right after her birth. I knew for a fact that he'd regretted his decision years later and spent half his life trying to convince himself that he'd made the right choice. "If only your father had realized his feelings of rejection were normal...if only he hadn't been so quick to make such a rash decision..."

Christian finished his coffee and looked at me out of the rim of his cup. I asked him if he wanted some breakfast, and he told me he wanted to wait and eat with Ana when she woke up.

"Anyway... I'm sure that in due time, you will grow to love her as your very own," I told him with absolute certainty.

"Maybe," Christian exhaled, smiling a little. "First, we're going to need to find her," he said. "None of this really makes sense...unless those people never wanted a baby for themselves...unless they were planning on selling her on the black market."

"What if they simply changed their minds about having an open adoption?" I reasoned. "Maybe they were afraid Ana would change her mind about giving up her baby. They felt threatened. Obviously, I'm not condoning their behavior...I'm just trying to see things from their perspective."

"I suppose that's a possibility." Christian agreed. "I still can't believe how quickly Ana bonded with these people. And they took advantage of her...but then again, she'd been so starved for friendships..." he trailed off.

I reminded myself that Ana came from a different culture. I certainly could understand that her desire for friendships of her own and her strong desire to fit in. It took great courage for her to start a new life in this country and leave everything and everyone she knew behind. I don't think I could ever move to another country, knowing I would always be a foreigner no matter what I did. I would hate the idea of being treated differently, even if the distinction was small.

I blinked as Christian suddenly circled back to the one subject which weighed on my mind since early this morning. "I don't get why dad waited so long to try and find his daughter."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Often, the hardest thing is to face the consequences of a mistake. It's easier to tell yourself it was the right thing to do."

"Still, he waited twenty-three years," Christian shook his head again and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "He never wanted to talk about it, you know," he added, his gaze narrowing pointedly. "Come to think of it, neither did you. You never wanted to talk about it either."

I lowered my gaze and stared at my hands. "I was just respecting your father's wishes...besides, it was not my place..."

Christian pinned me with those intense gray eyes of his. "Gail, you've always been part of this family...I'm sorry you've felt like an outsider," he said, reaching for my hands and squeezing them in his. "Those mother's day cards I give you every year? They weren't just a token of appreciation. I meant every single word."

My eyes filled with tears, and my heart swelled with joy. "Oh, Christian," I mumbled. I was at a loss of words, that was so sweet of him.

"I wonder if..." he started after a long moment of silence. "Did dad ever get to hold her? My sister? Did he give her a name?"

"I don't believe he ever did name her.." I paused to gather my thoughts. "Perhaps, if your father had been there for your sister's birth...things would have been different. Maybe if he'd bonded with the baby..."

"Wait a minute-I never knew...dad wasn't there for the birth?" Christian said with a shocked expression. I shook my head. "Why not?"

"You don't remember? Any of it?" I asked. Christian shook his head slowly. "You were there. You traveled to Colorado with Grace. Carrick was supposed to join you the next day, but his travel plans were delayed. There was a blizzard... and the roads were impassable... Grace went into labor, and the baby came four weeks early."

"So he didn't make it in time," he murmured, processing the information. "And the baby was early-" he trailed off.

"Yes," I murmured barely above a whisper, "Just like Ana's baby." I glanced out the window, and Christian followed my gaze. As intense as it was, it seemed to me that this blizzard was getting worse than predicted.

"So... Grace didn't give birth in a hospital?" He said more of a statement than a question.

"No..." I mumbled. "I knew at once he was thinking what I was thinking. This was one hell of a coincidence.

Time seemed to come to a standstill, we had come to some kind of crossroads. This connection between the two births was certainly odd. I gazed down at our hands still intertwined, we were onto something here. It was as if we'd stumbled onto a web of perfect lies. They were right there at our fingertips, just awaiting the arrival of the right moment to be revealed.

"Okay, then... I had no idea," he paused, confused. "But then...who delivered the baby?" He cocked his head and gazed at me intently. "You did?"

"No, Christian, unfortunately, I wasn't there."

"You weren't?"

"No...I wasn't there," I reiterated. In the silence that followed, the wind hollowed one long wailing note. "I had the weekend off."

"Are you telling me that Grace was... all alone?"

"No, she wasn't alone...Elena Lincoln was with her that day..."

**Author's note:**

Do you still feel the same or did you change your mind?

Who is Carrick's daughter? Is it Jane? Stephanie?


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter twenty-two

Grace POV

Twenty-three years ago

Aspen, Colorado

"So, what do you think?" I asked Elena. We had just left the beauty salon and were headed back to our cabin. I wanted to surprise Cary with my new haircut. I couldn't wait to see his expression. He'd always said he preferred me with shorter hair. Edward and Cary had stayed home for work-related reasons and were meeting us here tomorrow night. I was okay with this arrangement, these past few months had been critical; Grey Enterprises & Holdings was in the midst of entering the foreign market and expanding its client base. Besides, I was looking forward to a girl's night out tonight; Elena and I were planning on kicking back and relaxing with a movie and a bowl of popcorn.

"It looks great," Elena replied absentmindedly, buckling into the passenger seat.

"You really think Cary will love it?" I smiled as I buckled up Christian in the backseat. I handed him a couple of Dr. Seuss' books and kissed the top of his head.

"Maybe it's a little too short?" I replied, checking my reflection in the rear-view mirror. "Do I look like Marilyn Monroe reincarnated?" I chuckled, fluffing my hair. This new layered bob haircut and color would make the blonde bombshell jealous. I could almost pass for her, if it weren't for the big pregnant belly, I decided.

"He'll love it," she answered dryly. "There isn't a man alive that doesn't worship the woman," she shook her head, "even though she's been dead a great many years."

"After months of feeling like a cow...that's exactly what I need to hear," I chuckled, referring to my baby bump. I was well aware that I had put on more weight than recommended with this pregnancy and was in desperate need of a pick-me-up. "I can't wait to get back to the cabin and soak in the tub," I sighed as I backed out of a parking spot and shifted into drive. "There's this new movie I've been wanting to watch..."

I gushed more about the movie, but I soon realized Elena wasn't listening. I really couldn't blame her for being distracted. Poor thing; my heart went out to her. These last few years had been tough. She and Edward have been trying to have children for the past three years with no luck.

While struggling with infertility brought us together and cemented our friendship, it has also caused a divide between Elena and me. I was hoping this is temporary and that eventually, Elena would soon be blessed with a child of her own.

Suddenly, I was surprised by a jolt of crippling pain localized to the small of my back. I let out a gasp and gripped the steering wheel. I must have swerved a little into the next lane, next thing I knew, another driver was honking the horn at me. I immediately over-corrected and moved out of his way.

"Grace...what's wrong?" Elena asked wide-eyed.

"This pain...Oh, God! I can't...I can't describe it."

"Hope it's not a contraction?" Elena tilted her head just so. "Pull over, Grace. I'll drive the rest of the way."

Somehow, after parking the vehicle, I managed to slide over to the passenger side. Elena gave me a half-smile as she settled behind the steering wheel. She drove us to the cottage in nearly complete silence. We were pulling into the garage when we first heard of the upcoming storm on the radio.

Of course, I was immediately concerned. I tried calling Cary, the minute we got inside, but the landlines were down. Not only that, but we also discovered that even though we could still get the local TV stations, our cable service was out too. Fearing the loss of electricity, Elena got busy lighting candles in every room in the house.

As soon as we got inside, my sweet little boy started running around the house. It made Elena anxious. But I was happy that he remembered the place and felt right at home and wished Elena was more understanding. I opened my mouth to redirect Christian to a quieter activity, but then found myself consumed by distressing thoughts. The pain in my lower back and the hip area was becoming more challenging with each passing second.

Elena suggested I get in the tub, promptly moving to run the water for me.

"I want a bath too," Christian said, tugging at my dress.

"Oh, no, sweetheart, you can't get in the tub with me...but you can play with your trucks right here, next to me," I told my darling copper-haired boy.

Elena rolled her eyes at that. Even though she and I differed regarding Christian's clinginess, I was sure Elena meant well. She was just more of a disciplinarian than I was; I had no doubt she'd make an excellent mother one day.

"Vroom, vroom," Christian said as he spun the shiny wheels of his monster truck. The truck was the kind with magnetic wheels that could climb the walls, which fascinated him to no end. And I was thankful for the distraction at this point, even though ordinarily I welcomed his questions. I loved our conversations. Christian had come a long way from the shy, non-talkative little boy he'd been when we adopted him a year and a half ago.

Elena helped me get in the tub. "There. Are you comfortable?" She asked me, glancing over at Christian. "Are you going to be okay here by yourself?"

"Sure," I said, leaning back on a pillow positioned against the edge of the tub. "Christian will be no trouble. We do this at home all the time."

"You really are coddling him too much, you know," she mumbled. I couldn't see her expression, only her side profile.

"Dr. Flynn doesn't see it that way. Christian came from an abusive environment where he had formed an insecure attachment with his birth mother. Anything I can do to strengthen our connection will help him feel more confident and secure in the long run."

"Well, let's hope he's not thirty by the time he lets go of those apron strings. Remember Barry from high school? Talk about a mama's boy... last I heard he was on his third divorce," she said with a shake of the head.

"I'm sure Christian will be okay," I said distractedly, lathering my body with soap. At this point, I wasn't sure I would be able to stay on topic. The pain in my lower back had become unbearably intense. I couldn't help but cry out in pain, making Elena stopped on her heels on her way out the door.

"Are you okay?"

"It's... this...back pain," I mumbled, my voice so full of agony that Christian turned back to look at us with a curious expression.

"Grace, do you think you're in labor?" Elena murmured with concern in her eyes. "I heard, in some cases, back pain can be a sign."

"Please help me...get out!" I panted. I was starting to panic. If indeed I was in labor and it was this bad now, how much worse could it possibly get?

My sense of balance suddenly betrayed me, and I nearly slipped getting out of the tub. Thankfully, Elena was there to help me get dressed while Christian continued to play. Every once in a while, however, he would glance worriedly in our direction.

"Try the phones again," I asked Elena as she walked me back to my room and helped me get into bed.

Elena was gone for who knows how long while I struggled with the pain. At first, I tried to distract myself by breathing in and out, counting, and timing the contractions. But the thought of being in labor terrified me. It wasn't supposed to be this way; I was four weeks early, and my beloved husband wasn't here, holding my hand.

_Lord, please, help me!_

_Let this be false labor!_

_Oh, what if it was? What if Cary doesn't make it here in time!_

"Christian, please, go get Elena! Mommy... needs help. Please!" I breathed, and Christian's eyes widened.

"Okay," he mumbled as he ran out of the room before I had a chance to tell him how much I loved him. I got out of bed and made out down the hallway, leaning onto the walls and furniture for support. I called Elena's name over and over, but I couldn't project my voice very far; to me, it sounded barely above a whisper.

"Where were you?" I asked Elena when she finally reappeared. "Where's Christian?" I asked. I could hear the TV blasting coming from one of the rooms down the hallway.

"I put him to bed," she said matter-of-factly. "He's asleep now... he fell asleep watching TV," she added after a moment.

"No, no, I need to go to a hospital!" I weakly protested even as I hobbled back to bed with Elena assisting me.

"Grace. I don't think I can get the car out of the driveway... there's a freaking blizzard out there."

Suddenly, the contractions became pushier and more intense. Elena came in and out of the room, gathering all the things necessary for a home delivery. I couldn't believe this was happening, I wished with all my heart that this was all a bad dream.

"Call Cary! Please!" I sobbed and grabbed the sheets into a tight fist as another powerful contraction suddenly overtook me, and my eyes filled with tears.

When the next contraction came, Elena coached me, and I pushed as hard as I could. Minutes passed, and the baby was out after a great deal of burning and pushing.

I rested my head on the pillow, sweat dripping down my temple as crying filled the room. Elena put a blanket on my chest, and then she gently set the baby down.

"It's a girl," Elena said emotionless, a weird expression crossing her face. That should have been my first clue, but I was too caught up in the moment. I couldn't wait for Cary to find out. He'd thought all along we were having a boy!

I reached to cradle my baby's tiny head. She matched my skin tone and had a thin layer of very light peach fuzz on top of her head. Elena clamped the cord and cleaned her up, all while she was on top of me.

"She's beautiful!" I cried and laughed at the same time.

"She's perfect," Elena said, moving to the take the baby from me. "You need to get some rest."

"I want to nurse her," I murmured, pulling my baby away from her. Elena stood back with her arms crossed. I barely made eye contact with her. "Can you please get me the phone? I want to talk to Cary," I said, looking down at my precious baby girl. She was perfect, indeed. I tried to get get her to latch on to my breast as the LAMAZE coach had suggested. "C'mon, Mia," I cooed, looking into her eyes. When discussing names, Cary and I had finally settled on Elliot if it was a boy and Miriam ( Mia for short ) if it was a girl.

I was so focused on my miracle baby, I didn't notice Elena leaving the room. My moments of bliss watching my little girl as she nursed were short-lived. Next thing I knew, the pain returned, except that this time, there was something wet between my legs. I dismissed it at first. I kissed the top of my little girl's head; sweet Mia had dozed off like the little angel she was.

It took me another moment to realize I was bleeding heavily.

_Oh, God! NO!_

I called Elena's name with urgency in my voice. By the time she finally reappeared, I was in a state of panic. She immediately took Mia from my arms and set her down on the daybed across from my bed. We discussed what we could do to stop the bleeding. Elena suggested I lay with a pillow under me to keep my pelvis elevated.

Christian came into the room, and Elena shouted at him to get out.

"NO! Don't yell at him like that, he's just scared!" I exclaimed, my heart breaking into a thousand pieces. I tried getting out of bed to go after him, but Elena pushed me back down. Her brusque demeanor freaked me out even more than I already was. "Elena, he's just a little boy... I need to hold him, tell him everything is going to be okay," I pleaded with her. Elena just gave me a blank look. Knowing I had to do something, I had to go comfort Christian.

Once again, I tried getting out of bed. Except in the next moment, my heart nearly stopped. When I looked down, I was horrified at the amount of blood I was losing. The sheets were soaked, and blood ran down my legs.

I doubled in pain as another contraction knocked me down onto the bed. Elena put her hand on my still swollen belly, and her eyes widened in confusion.

"How can this be? " she said numbly," You already delivered the placenta, but you're still having contractions."

I pushed again, bearing down completely. In the next moment, another baby slid its way into the world. Looking at the miracle unfolding right before my eyes, I cried tears of profound joy.

_Oh, my God, TWINS! TWINS_

_How was this possible? After so many years of trying to get pregnant, Cary and I were being blessed with twins! _

"It's another girl!" Elena said as the new baby cried out. "And she's perfect," she added her eyes filled with an unnamed emotion, dark and full of longing.


	23. Chapter 23

Author's note ~~

Last chapter ended with Grace's POV. This chapter starts where chapter 21 left off. This one took me a long time to write, it's REALLY LONG, and lots of details to think about. I may still need to come back and edit, we'll see.

* * *

Chapter twenty-three

Christian POV

Listening to Gail's retelling of what happened after the storm passed was tough. I wholeheartedly identified with Carrick; I imagined him rushing to his wife's bedside. As frightening as I imagined the actual moment of her death must have been, and aside from the shock of her untimely passing, the worst part had to be the moments leading up to it.

According to Gail, Grace was semi-conscious on the ambulance ride. Years later, Carrick would say that his only consolation was that at least he got to say good-bye. When Gail got to this part of the story, memories of that day started coming back to me in fragments. How could I have forgotten the anguish, my desperation in wanting to climb in the ambulance, and Elena's cruel arms dragging me back into the house? The more I screamed, the angrier she became.

While I was able to have some compassion for what my five-year-old self had gone through, I still wanted to close the lid on painful emotions.

Shifting gears, I asked Gail what she remembered about the funeral. She said Elena didn't even attend. She'd traveled abroad and didn't return to Seattle until the following year.

"For a while, Carrick avoided her. But eventually, that woman found a way to weasel herself into his life," Gail said with shocking bitterness. But then again, she'd always been rather fond of my father. "She started coming over to the house with her young daughter a couple of times," she paused, " no husband."

"How old was Stephanie then?"

"Hmm...she must have been about a year old... I remember babysitting her...she'd just started taking her first steps."

"What about Elena's husband?" I asked. I couldn't remember his name; he was a man of forgettable features.

Gail shrugged. "As far as I know, she came back to Seattle alone, the husband was in and out of her life," she paused. "This may sound a little crazy, but I have a theory," she said, rather cryptically. I nodded for her to continue. "I think Elena may have hired a surrogate to carry the child for her. That's why she went abroad so she could later pass the child as her own."

"It's not a crazy idea at all," I replied, giving the matter further thought. All of a sudden, things started clicking into place. "What happened after the funeral? I wondered. "When did Carrick decide to give his daughter up for adoption?"

Gail gave the question some thought. "I remember Carrick calling me the day after your mother passed. He was disoriented, after leaving the hospital, he'd slept in the car."

I nodded slowly. This meant I had stayed under Elena's care for longer than a day. No wonder I had abandonment issues. First Ella; then Grace, and finally Carrick.

"When he got back to the house, he didn't want to see the baby," she went on. "He told me he'd asked Elena to handle your sister's adoption proceedings, and never looked back...at least not until last year."

"Wait. Let's backtrack a minute." Was it possible that the truth had been staring them in the face all along? If Elena was barren, wouldn't she have wanted to keep the baby for herself?

Even though I could hardly blame Carrick for his decision to give up his daughter, he must have been out of his freaking mind!

"What if Elena never contacted child protective services, and kept the child?" I wondered, and Gail's mouth dropped open. It would have been all too easy for her to draft the papers and give them to my distraught father to sign. All too easy, indeed.

Gail shook her head in disbelief. "No...that's can't be!"

"Think about it, Gail. No wonder we could never find her," I paused, "why every private investigator we hired kept coming across dead ends."

"I just...never thought," she stammered, her expression troubled.

"I'm going to see Stephanie this afternoon," I said, recalling my intention of contacting Stephanie after the hearing. Except that now, I had good reason to believe that Stephanie was Carrick's long lost daughter. If this was the case, there was a good chance I could turn her against Elena. It was a long shot, but well worth trying.

"But first, I need to make sure Ana will be okay in my absence," I added. Ana's welfare was my first priority.

Gail was relieved at the change of subject. After assuring me she'd be happy to keep Ana company, she went to prepare our breakfast, which included Ana's favorite pastries and a generous portion of fresh fruit.

Ana had been lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The moment I came into the room, she took one look at the tray and shook her head no.

"C'mon, Ana, you got to eat something," I sat on the edge of the bed, positioning the tray across her lap. "Please, sweetheart. You got to keep your strength."

"What for?" Ana lamented. Her voice sounded hopeless, desolate, and small. "She's gone! I have nothing, nothing!"

I looked down at our breakfast. The bacon and scrambled eggs looked good; however, my appetite had vanished. "Don't say that, Ana. What about us?"

"Us?" She questioned. She gave me a confused look as if she suddenly forgot her English. "Don't you understand? I cannot be happy, not while my baby is missing!"

"Ana," I took her hand in mine. "Starving yourself is NOT going to bring her back!" I tried reasoning with her. But she seemed beyond consoling, tears streamed down her cheeks.

I hated seeing her like this. "Listen, baby, I love you more than life itself," I told her, my voice breaking a little. Ana's eyes filled with more tears. "We're going to get through this together," I put the tray away and took her into my arms, and she willingly buried her head in my shoulders. "We will get her back, I promise you."

"But...you never wanted her," she said without a trace of recrimination, rubbing more tears from her eyes.

I let out a long exhale. This was not the first time we've had this conversation, but she obviously needed me to reassure her once again.

"Things will be different now, I promise," I told her, which seemed to comfort her some. "I'm not proud of how I acted these past few months. I was consumed with jealousy, thinking that keeping the baby meant a connection to your ex that could never be broken."

Ana's face fell. "Nothing will ever change that," she sniffed.

"I don't care about that now," I said, wiping her tears with my thumbs. "When you disappeared, the only thing I could think about was you... the thought of losing you forever terrified me."

Her gaze softened at my words. "But the baby..."

"That baby is part of you," I reassured her, "and that it's good enough for me. Loving you means loving her too."

I held her in my arms for a long time. At last, she relented, and I was able to convince her to eat something. I told her that I'd been waiting to have breakfast with her, and she was immediately concerned about me not eating.

"I need to run some errands," I told her after we were done eating.

She was quiet, her eyes connecting with mine. "Don't go," she breathed, looking suddenly much older. "Christian, please! I don't want to be alone!" She cried, flinging her arms around me, holding me tight.

Later that afternoon, Ana settled down for a nap, a habit she'd kept throughout her pregnancy, and I seized the opportunity to slip out of the house. I wasn't leaving her completely alone. Gail and Taylor were home. And I left her a note, explaining the reason for my absence. I was sure that upon my return, Ana would understand that time was of the essence.

* * *

...

I arrived at Stephanie's apartment with a game plan. She welcomed me with a warm smile, and we made small talk. Despite the lawsuit, she was set on convincing me she was my friend. The perfect opportunity presented itself for me to steer the conversation to the topic of adoption.

"Nope, I certainly never felt the need to look up my birth parents. All I know is that Ella is dead, and that's good enough for me. How about you?" I asked, and her brows rose in surprise.

"Wh-what?"

"Oh... I thought you knew...Elena is not your biological mother," I spoke as if this was an indisputable fact.

"No!" she shook her head. "You're lying, you're making things up!"

Her voice was tinted with confusion as if she suddenly recognized I held all the cards.

"I'm not lying," I told her with a straight face. "I found out through a very credible source," I said vaguely, making eye contact, I couldn't let her see I was bluffing.

"Who told you this?"

"I'm afraid that's confidential," I replied nonchalantly. I could tell that despite her outrage, I had struck a nerve. This wasn't the first time Stephanie had considered this.

"I know your game, you're trying to drive a wedge between me and my mother."

"Why don't you ask her?" I insisted. "Have you ever seen your birth certificate?"

She blinked at me. "I was born in France."

"I'm sure they have birth certificates there too," I smiled a little, and she glared back at me. "Look, Steph, I know what you're thinking. I have a vested interest in destroying Elena. And that's true, but you're not Elena. You and I don't need to be in a feud."

Stephanie gave me a dubious look. "I still think you're lying." She paused. I could see the wheels in her head turning. "By the way, sorry to hear about your baby's kidnapping."

"How did you know?" I asked suspiciously.

It was all over the news," she quickly replied. It was true. We'd decided to involve the media to improve our chances of recovering the baby in the shortest time possible.

She gave me a furtive glance and looked away. This must be such a terrible ordeal for your poor wife. How's she doing, by the way?"

I exhaled deeply. "She's the strongest person I know."

"Tell her I'm really sorry."

I noticed Stephanie was avoiding looking me in the eye. "Well, I got to get going," I said after casually glancing at my watch. It was time to move on to the next part of my plan. "It's getting late, and my wife is expecting me home."

"Well, I sure hope I will get to meet her soon."

"Yes, of course," I replied vaguely. "Before I go...I got something for you," I said reaching into my pocket, producing a rectangular velvet box in an unhurried manner. "Happy belated birthday!"

Stephanie shook her head, perplexed.

"Wasn't it a few days ago?" I asked, pretending to be genuinely confused.

"But... my birthday was months ago!"

I scratched the back of my head while making steady eye contact. "I think you and my sister share the same birthday."

"Wh-what?"

"You share the same birthday because you are the same person," I ventured, pausing to let this bit of information sink in. Another long-shot worth exploring.

"That's absolutely ridiculous!" Stephanie exclaimed, outraged.

"Is it? Is it really that ridiculous?" I countered. I could see the wheels in her head turning. " I don't think you know the whole story. Did you know Elena was with Grace when she delivered her baby?"

Stephanie gave me a blank look. Clearly, she had no idea what I was talking about, so I gave her a brief summary of the events.

"My mother never underwent fertility treatments," she asserted with finality. 'Your source' didn't get that part right!"

At this point, it became clear I was getting nowhere. I knew better than to argue.

"Aren't you going to open your gift?"

Stephanie reluctantly opened the box, "Nice pen," she said without much enthusiasm.

I smiled inwardly. My gift, a seemingly ordinary pen, was harmless enough as to not arouse any suspicion. It was the perfect surveillance device; its espionage military-style technology made it possible to download recordings remotely.

"I suppose one can never have too many pens..." She said while mindlessly tucking the pen deep inside the outside pocket of her purse.

I turned as if to leave. "Call me if you need to talk."

Hopefully, Stephanie would be curious enough to ask Elena for her birth certificate. Now that I had planted the seed of doubt in Stephanie's mind, the path was wide open for me to return at a later time. If all went well, Stephanie would confront Elena.

I smiled at her as I grabbed the door handle. I was about to step out into the hallway when a sudden knock took us both by surprise.

"Stephanie, darling! It's me!"

Elena's voice thundered through the door.

Stephanie and I exchanged looks. I could tell at once, the last thing she wanted was for her mother to find me here. So I pretended I was just as concerned about Elena seeing us together when in reality, this was the perfect opportunity for me to record them.

I wordlessly pointed to her coat closet, and she nodded in agreement. I thanked my lucky stars. Even with the door closed, I was within hearing range of whatever happened in the room, and at the same time, close enough to activate the remote control.

I put my ear to the door. Even though their voices were quiet, I could tell they weren't discussing anything important. This coat closet was so crammed with coats, it reminded me of _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_. I felt the back of the closet and was relieved to find that there was a solid wall behind the twenty thousand winter coats. I waited until their voices escalated an octave higher to press the button and start recording the conversation.

"What is it, darling? You look a little frazzled," I heard Elena say.

A short hesitant silence followed.

"I'm tired, I was about to take a nap."

"And since when do you take afternoon naps?"

"I suppose I'm still jet-lagged."

"We have dinner reservations at your favorite place."

Another silence. "Hmm...maybe not tonight," Stephanie said, her voice sounding a little stand-offish. "Mom...now that you're here...I need to see a copy of my birth certificate."

"Hmm...well, that's an unusual request. I believe I got a copy somewhere," she answered vaguely. "What do you need it for?"

"Mom...why didn't you ever tell me you went through fertility treatments?" Stephanie asked after a long stunned silence.

"Who told you such a thing?"

"So...you're not denying it?"

"I don't understand what this is about," Elena said in an exasperated voice.

"Mom? Why can't you just answer the damn question?"

"Tell you what... Why don't we talk about this over dinner?"

"I want us to talk about it now!"

"I just remembered I need to run an errand. Why don't we regroup in an hour or so? It'll give you a chance to rest," Elena cunningly replied. "Oh, almost forgot. Jane is meeting us for dinner."

I could almost see Stephanie's stunned expression in the heavy silence that followed. I imagined Elena, her smile slipping from her face like the sun sinking beneath the earth.

"Steph? What's wrong? You look as pale as a ghost!"

"I'm okay...I'm-" Stephanie stuttered.

"I thought you would be glad to see her; she won't be in town very long, you know."

"It's not that...hmm... I think I just need to lay down for a bit." Long pause. "I'll see you later, mom."

In the next breath, I heard the front door closing sharply, and the puzzle pieces clicking into place. Stephanie's rush in getting rid of Elena; the three women were in it together.

A thousand questions flowed through my mind, but right now, I needed to stay focused and play the cards right. One mistake on my part, and it could all start crumbling down.

...

"Did you hear anything in there?" Stephanie mumbled the second I came out of the closet, looking distraught.

"Not much," I easily lied, you were both talking very quietly."

Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief. "She didn't deny it, you know... the fertility treatments. I was expecting a story about me being her miracle child...But no, which makes me wonder what else she's not telling me,"

I sat beside her on the couch. "There's one way to find out," I put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you ask your father?"

Stephanie's eyes lit up. "Of course," she mumbled, grabbing her cell phone. It occurred to me I didn't know much about her father, except he was a man of a few words. But then again, English was not his first language.

"Dad? It's me. Yes, I'm okay. I just need to ask you something very important," Stephanie said into the receiver, and I listened attentively, playing the role of a caring friend. I was glad this conversation was in English and not in French. "I just need you to send me a copy of my birth certificate." Long silence. "What? But I thought...Mom always said I was born in France. Can't you just order a copy?"

My ears perked up, but unfortunately, Stephanie was speaking in monosyllables. And I couldn't make out what Stephanie's father was saying.

Stephanie finished the call with a bewildered expression. "I can't believe this!"

"What happened? What did he say?"

"He told me this long story," she rolled her eyes, "something about me being born while they were traveling through Italy," she shook her head. "Lots of useless details that don't match anything mom has ever told me. I think he's lying...I think they're both lying," she ran a hand through her hair. "Honestly, I don't know what to believe!"

I pulled out my wallet to show Stephanie a wallet-sized picture of Grace. "Look, you have the same nose, the same eyes." They weren't two peas in a pod, but there was definitely a resemblance. No wonder Elena had kept Stephanie hidden in plain sight all these years!

Stephanie's hands shook as she handed me back the picture. "No! I don't know...how can you be so sure?"

"I am sure," I replied resolutely. Ever since my conversation with Gail, this morning, bits and pieces from the past had started to slowly come back to me. It's natural for some childhood memories to fade over others, but perhaps we still retain the ability to bring them back at a moment's notice.

The morning after Grace gave birth, my five-year-old self heard the sound of a baby crying. I followed the trail to the garage to investigate and saw a baby bundled in a car seat. When I went to tell Carrick, he and Elena were together. Carrick turned away from Elena and the baby she carried in her arms. I was confused. I couldn't figure out how, in the blink of an eye, the baby could have traveled from the garage to the living room, unless it had supersonic powers.

I tried to tell Carrick, but he acted as if he couldn't hear me. I'd never seen my father cry; it frightened me. I can't remember what happened next, except watching Elena take the baby away without another word.

That's all I remember. But it's clear to me what happened. In his grief over losing Grace, Carrick wasn't himself. Perhaps, he never even signed the papers, something he regretted years later when he was not able to find his daughter.

"My mother died on the way to the hospital," I told her. There was a catch in my voice. I swallowed the tears back, recalling the moment I learned she was gone. For months, I'd refused to believe someone as beautiful and sweet as my mom could be dead. I held on to the belief she would be coming back any day now. I continued looking for her, night and day wandering from room to room looking for her. Sometimes, I would end up finding Grace in one of the rooms, her arms wide open. Overcome with relief, I'd jump into her arms, and she'd hold me tight. I promised myself, this time, I was never going to let her go.

Once, when I used to live with Ella, she took me to a pool and left me unattended. It all happened so fast. My terrorized little body kicked and frailed, unable to break the surface. For a millisecond, I felt the horrible reality of what it felt to drown.

That's what it felt waking up to my new reality, except that this time, there was no kind hand pulling me out of the water.

Stephanie asked to look at Grace's picture again. "I don't think we could ever be sure," she conceded softly, biting her trembling lip. "Both Grace and Carrick are gone and there are no surviving blood relatives," she went on before I could comment. "I think part of me did always believed Elena was not my real mother."

I stared back at her in surprise. "Before he passed, Carrick had his DNA stored in a blood bank. He signed up for this believing that his daughter-I trailed off. "The bottom line is that he wanted you to have access to your genetic history one day."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Honestly, I was surprised at myself here. Most of my life, I'd felt 'less than.' But it didn't need to be that way. Even if this woman was a Grey by birthright, it didn't change my identity. I was still Christian Grey, the son of Grace and Carrick Grey.

"Please don't hate me," she mumbled, her face suddenly filled with guilt and conflicting emotions. "I've done some horrible things!" She exclaimed with a haunted expression.

"What could be so terrible?" I questioned, putting a friendly hand over her shoulder, swallowing my anger at her for whatever role she'd played in Elena's schemes.

"It's nothing really," she shook her head, suddenly moving away from me. "I'm imagining things, maybe I'm coming down with something," she answered vaguely, lowering her gaze, "I think you should go."

I shook my head. "I'm not leaving you like this, I care about you, Steph," I told her. "Just tell me what's troubling you."

My words didn't have the desired effect on her. She stood up, marched to the front door, and opened it wide. Her eyes then narrowed in anger when I made no attempt to leave.

"I'm not leaving," I challenged her, "not until you tell me what's going on."

"Get out!" She suddenly yelled, her face red and angry.

I stood up but made no attempt to leave. This infuriated her further, and she started hitting me in the chest. I grabbed her wrists to stop her.

"What's wrong with you? You're acting like a damn lunatic!" I spat.

"And you! Stop acting like my mother!"

"How am I acting like your mother?!

"You're not listening to what I want! I told you to leave!"

Right then, we heard the ringing of a phone. The sound was coming from her purse, which was sitting on the coffee table.

Stephanie reached for her phone; after glancing at the called ID, she quickly dropped it back in her purse.

"You're not going to answer that?"

"Telemarketers, " she mumbled, not meeting my gaze.

"Yeah, sure," I said sarcastically when her phone wouldn't stop ringing. "Here, I'll show you how to get rid of them," I moved forward, and she retreated back, the action knocking her purse off her hands. We both watched the contents spill onto the floor.

My eyes zeroed in on her phone, which had landed on the floor, facing up.

Stephanie moved to retrieve her mobile, but it was too late; I had already seen the caller ID.

My eyes stared in disbelief at the screen, and it all suddenly clicked into place, as if a new circuit in my brain's fuse box had been flipped, suddenly illuminating the connections.

I quickly grabbed the phone right out of Stephanie's hand, but whoever was on the receiving end of the line hung up at the sound of my voice. I redialed again with the same exact result. I turned to Stephanie, who was staring at me wide-eyed, frozen in place.

"Call her back!" I demanded, handing her the phone. But she continued to stare at me, weighing her options. "You were on it, too, weren't you? The Buchanans and Elena? You're going down for this one, unless you do the right thing, and return the baby to her mother. Immediately!"

"I...I don't know! I don't know what you're talking about!" She exclaimed lamely, even though we both knew she was lying. "I have nothing to do with this, I swear! I wasn't even in the country when the baby disappeared!"

"What is your connection to Jane Buchanan?"

"She's Elena's niece," she sniffed. "You got to believe me, I knew nothing of their plans until the day of the hearing. I had nothing to do with any of it, I swear!" she reiterated, sobbing openly now.

"Call her!" I demanded. And when she didn't move, I grabbed her by the shoulders. "Do it! I yelled, and she continued sobbing hysterically.

Her wails were like screeching chalk. I released my grip, and her sobbing gradually diminished.

"Once the baby is back safely, I will make sure you won't do jail time for aiding and abetting a crime," I told her, even though this did NOT mean I held her blameless. Clearly, Stephanie had played a role in Elena's schemes. But right now, the only thing that mattered was getting Ana's baby back.

Stephanie dialed Jane's number: hook, line, sinker.

"Sh-sh, make her think you're just stopping by for a visit," I whispered.

I listened to Stephanie's side of the conversation as she made plans to meet the Buchanans. I was relieved to hear the shifty couple had not taken the baby abroad; their hideout was only five hours away.

I pictured how the rest would play out and let out a long exhale. Taylor and I would handle this without getting the police involved.

Author's note~~

I got the next chapter of my other story almost ready. It's been a while, but family life has been crazy busy!


End file.
